


Touched by an Angel

by acemindpalace, allroadsleadbacktobakerstreet, TearStainedAshes



Category: Sherlock (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Guardian Angels, Angel Sherlock, Angels and Demons, Angst, Anorexia, Cutting, Depression, Desperation Play, Explicit Sexual Content, Fallen Angels, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mpreg, Parentlock, Piss kink, Rape/Non-con Elements, Resurrection, Sexual Content, Starvation, Suicidal actions, Temporary Character Death, Violence, Watersports, Winglock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-08
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-07 22:57:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 40
Words: 183,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1125387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acemindpalace/pseuds/acemindpalace, https://archiveofourown.org/users/allroadsleadbacktobakerstreet/pseuds/allroadsleadbacktobakerstreet, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TearStainedAshes/pseuds/TearStainedAshes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world with assigned guardian angels, Sherlock Holmes is the Guardian to John Watson. Not that either of them are happy about it in the beginning. They soon grow close, and start a dangerous relationship together. Their love is tested through trials and tribulations, but will it prevail? </p><p>Winglock AU with eventual Mpreg and Rape/Non-Con elements.</p><p>Co-written with Mrbenedicttcumberbatch</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Saving a Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! This here is a Wing!lock AU. A guardian angel AU to be precise. This is another RP of mine with InvisibleBlade :) So if you liked our first story together, Faith, Trust, and Pixie Dust, you'll probably like this one too. If you didn't like our first story, then you might not like this one. It has angst, feels, angst, smut, and did I mention angst? So be prepared for all of that.
> 
> InvisibleBlade: Sherlock  
> Me: John, John's mum
> 
> No warnings for the introductory chapter. Enjoy!

Everyone has one. At some point in their lives they will show up and everything becomes infinitely better. They gain a friend, confidant, brother, sister, what have you. But they only arrive when they are needed most.

 _They_  are guardian angels.

It was common knowledge by now that everyone was guaranteed an angel. There were books about them in libraries across the world, explaining what their purpose was and what they could and could not do.

The four biggest rules were:

1) your guardian angel only showed up when you needed him or her most  
2) once your angel has showed up they remain with you for life (though they are able to leave and return to Heaven if need be)  
3) angels are treated with the utmost respect at all times, grounded or otherwise  
4) an angel is grounded when they have a) failed to guard their human; b) upset God or broken a rule of Heaven; or c) fallen in love with a human or have sexual relations with a human.

Falling for a human was one of the worst things an angel can do. Angel-human relationships other than platonic were strictly forbidden. Though many an angel have fallen for a human, reports of grounded angels have diminished over the last few years. However, more and more angels were arriving to help teenagers seeing as times were harder for them now with all the pressure to grow up and do well in school and hold a steady job and go to university. Which is where one John Hamish Watson comes in.

John was your average British teenager. He worked hard to please his parents, had a reasonable social life, and even managed to secure a spot in medical school two years ahead of time. He was smart, a tad small for his age, and was much more tan than he had any need to be. Overall he had a nice life, a happy life with his parents and sister. The only problem? The bullies.

They picked on him because of his size, his weight, his sister's bedding habits, anything they could get their hands on. John hated it. He was sick of it all. Then they started making things up and people at school stopped talking to him. He still had Mike and Bill, and thank God for Mary. He'd be a wreck without her. But he still couldn't stand what the bullies said. He was sick and tired of it all, he wanted it to end. But if the rumours wouldn't stop, then John would just have to take things into his own hands.

He'd made plans. Sure, he was taking the coward's way out, but his angel had yet to show up, so either he didn't have one or his life had to get much worse in order to get one. After the sex rumours started (which were completely ridiculous seeing as he was still a virgin) he decided enough was enough. He went home and pulled out the box he'd prepared from under his bed. He set the note on his pillow and loaded his father's 'borrowed' pistol. He sat in his desk chair and closed his eyes, thinking of his beautiful mother as he pressed the gun underneath his chin.

'I'm so sorry, Mum,' he whispered. 'I love you.'

Sherlock didn't want to be anyone's angel. He hated the idea of being tied to someone for the rest of his existence. He wanted to be able to live and to be able to do something other than protect a ridiculous human being.

Instead, he found himself forced down to Earth to a kid who was minutes away from killing himself.

 _Great, I get a bloody suicidal one,_  Sherlock thought bitterly.

He grabbed the gun from the boy's hand and smacked it to the ground with an audible thud. His arms wrapped around him tightly and his thick, raven black wings curled around the boy's body, acting like a form of shock blanket.

'It's OK,' he said softly, not wanting to scare the blonde haired boy. 'I've got you.'

John's eyes snapped open and he looked up at the angel that had saved him. Bright blue – no, green – no, now they're grey – no, blue eyes, sharp cheekbones, dark curls on his head, long and lean and... Oh my god those wings. John swallowed as he stared at the beautiful raven black wings that surrounded him. He reached out to stroke one of the feathers and he instantly melted into the chair, the softness of the feather unexpected but entirely welcome. He smiled softly up at the angel.

'Thank you,' he hummed, still stroking the feather. 'I was beginning to wonder if I actually had an angel or not. So, thank you.'

Sherlock's cool eyes studied the blonde haired boy with a calm regard. 'Everyone has an angel assigned to them. You, John Watson, are no different.' He released him and carefully stepped away from him. 'And, unfortunately, I'm yours.'

'Unfortunately?' John asked softly, turning to look at the angel. He was trying to determine an age. He looked like he could have been a teenager but he also looked like he was eternally twenty five. It was hard to tell with angels, and it was extremely rude for humans to ask. Instead, the angel would tell their human when they had either bonded or gained a strong level of trust. It was weird how the two didn't coincide, but that's just how it was.

'Oh, don't be like that,' Sherlock sighed, exasperated. 'It's not just you that I despise. I hate every human being with my every fibre. I'll just have to put up with you I guess.'

'Why do you hate us?' John asked, still stuck to his chair. If his angel didn't want to be here then maybe he didn't want John near him. 'Are we really that... disgusting to you?'

Sherlock snorted. 'You're all idiots!' he exclaimed. 'You do not observe the world around you. I mean look at you. You were going to kill yourself over rumours. When in due fact you have a wonderful family who cares for you. Not that I encourage caring, mind you. Caring isn't an advantage, or that's what my older brother says. But he would have been right. You were going to abandon your family, and your whole future.'

'Not all of them were rumours,' John mumbled, looking away. 'A lot were true. And they were about my family. So... Well, now that I think about it, maybe killing myself wouldn't have helped them. It would have just made everything worse. So... thanks, for saving me.'

'You are welcome.' Sherlock's brow pinched together. 'Or at least I think that's the phrase I am searching for.'

'Yeah. That's right.' John still didn't stand. Not that he was afraid to, he just didn't want to move. 'So, um, what's your name?'

'Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes.' Sherlock smirked smugly and gave John a wink. John blushed slightly and cleared his throat.

'Nice to meet you, Sherlock. I'm John. But you already knew that.'

'Mmm,' Sherlock hummed and circled John. 'I know everything about you. From the amount of hairs on your body to the fact you wish to join the army but have killed that dream because of your height, weight, and overall stature. I know that you're sexually confused. I know that you smoke. I know that you binge and that you starve yourself. I know that you cut and I know that this isn't the first time you truly planned on dying.'

'Can you read my mind?' John asked softly, staring at Sherlock with wide eyes. 'Is that how you know all that?'

Sherlock snorted. 'No. Not at all. I deduced it all. There are rumours of angels that can have telepathic conversations with the ones that they are bonded with. But those angels fell... in love with their assigned humans.' He wrinkled his nose up in distaste. The word 'love' made him cringe internally.

'Oh. I wouldn't worry about falling in love with me. The girl I like doesn't even know I exist, so I think you'll be fine. I think all you'll ever be to me is a really good friend.' He sighed and finally managed to stand, stretching slightly. 'Plus I'm not gay, so no worries,' he added almost as a second thought. He glanced back up at his angel and smiled softly.

'So... What do we do now? I've only ever met two angels in my life and I don't really know how to act around you guys.'

'Well, this is my first time on Earth. First time meeting a human even. What do you mundane people do to stop you from getting so... bored?' Sherlock sighed and rolled his shoulders, as though he had the weight of the world on them and was trying to shrug it off.

'Well, we go for walks sometimes. We read or watch telly or go to the cinema. Sometimes we hang out with our friends and do whatever.' John shrugged and approached Sherlock slowly. The boy-man-whatever twitched slightly and his wings opened a tad, the feathers ruffling in agitation.

'Are you OK?' John asked. 'You seem stressed.'

'Just... keep your distance,' Sherlock hissed. 'Don't touch me. Don't even... Just don't.'

'Oh. OK. Um...' John stepped back and Sherlock relaxed slightly. 'I'm sorry.'

'It's fine.' Sherlock blew out a breath of relief. 'Now, shall we go on one of those walk things?'

'Um, yeah. Sure. It's kinda cold out though. Do you want a jacket or anything?'

'I'll be fine. My wings keep me nice and toasty.' Sherlock flicked his wings out and smiled.

'Right. Yeah. OK,' John stammered, staring at Sherlock's gorgeous wings.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. 'You like my wings,' he stated.

'What?' John glanced back up at Sherlock's face and swallowed. 'Oh. Yes. They're quite... extraordinary. They're very... I don't really want to say beautiful but that's the only word coming to mind. Your wings are absolutely beautiful.'

Sherlock grinned and stretched his wings out to their impressive full span. He watched John carefully. 'Blown pupils, increased heart rate, uneven breathing... oh. You're aroused. How brilliant. I've been assigned to a silly human who sees me in a sexual light. Please calm yourself down.'

'I... I am not!' John stammered. 'I'm not gay!'

'Hmm. And yet that erection of yours speaks for itself,' Sherlock sighed.

'Shut up,' John snarled, sliding his hands over his jeans to cover himself up. 'I just like your wings is all. I'm not attracted to you in the slightest.'

'So you're attracted to my wings, not me myself.' Sherlock sighed again.

'I... I didn't say that!' John screeched. 'I'm not a bloody Winger!'

'Say that without an erection in your trousers. Maybe then you'll convince me that you're not a Winger.'

'I'm not!' John yelled.

'Jonathan?' a woman's voice said from outside his bedroom door. 'Are you quite alright?'

'Shit. It's my mum. She can't know I got my guardian angel because I was about to commit suicide. It'll kill her. Can you hide or something? I don't want her to know.'

Sherlock sighed heavily. Silly human. 'I shall see you out there.' He opened a window and dropped out of it, his wings flapping majestically as he took off into flight. John stared after him and watched him fly away. But if he disappeared too far how was he supposed to find him? His mum's voice quickly broke him out of his thoughts and he moved to open the door.

'Hi Mum. Sorry. I'm fine. I was just shouting at my computer. It's not cooperating with me today.'

'Oh. Well, OK,' she smiled softly. 'If you aren't busy, we'll be having lunch soon.'

'Actually I was about to go have lunch with a friend,' John said smoothly. 'But I'll be home in time for dinner.'

'OK sweetie. Have fun.' She kissed the top of his head and John hugged her. She went back downstairs and John thrust on his jacket before going outside. Thank god his erection disappeared before he opened the door. He would have hated to explain that to his mum. He walked down to the local park and sat on a bench. Maybe if he couldn't find Sherlock, Sherlock would find him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's the introductory chapter. What did you think? Reviews are always appreciated :)
> 
> Just for reference, a Winger is a human who is not only attracted to angels, but has sexual relations with angels.
> 
> I'm not sure when the next chapter will be up, but maybe over the weekend. I move back into my dorm on Sunday the 12th, one week before the S3 premiere in America. InvisibleBlade has been itching to discuss the series with me, but I'm waiting to watch it with my friends at Uni, so she's dying because she can't talk about it. Hehehe. But the wait is killing me too. Just a week and a half to go and I'll be sitting in front of my TV watching The Empty Hearse!
> 
> Until the next chapter!
> 
> TSA + IB


	2. Connections

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Happy Saturday. Enjoy the weekend while you can. The final episode of Series 3 airs tomorrow night. From what I've heard you'll want plenty of shock blankets and tissues handy.
> 
> InvisibleBlade: Sherlock  
> Me: John, shop owner, random hospital staff
> 
> There are no warnings for this chapter except for maybe some feels. Enjoy!

'Earth is a strange place,' Sherlock mused out loud as he came to land behind John. 'And you are a very strange human being.' He observed John carefully. 'You are full of doubts and self hatred, and you're unbelievably insecure. And yet, at the same time, you are grounded and down-to-Earth. You seem caught between sadness, anger, and peace. It's very confusing.'

'Thank you?' John said, observing Sherlock's wings as they stretched and relaxed against him. God they were magnificent. But he wasn't gay and he wasn't a Winger, so he forced himself to look away.

'You are welcome.' Sherlock tilted his head, eyeing John up. 'You are a puzzle. I do intend to solve you. It shall quench some of my boredom doing that at least.'

'Well I'm glad to be a source of entertainment,' John sighed, staring across the green hill and purposefully not at Sherlock.

'I didn't mean it like that. It's just... you're rather interesting for a human.'

'Well, I suppose that's better than an idiotic, suicidal one,' John sighed. 'Do you still want to go on that walk? And do you eat human food? Or do you not eat at all?'

'I do not eat human food. I have no need to. It's utterly revolting!' Sherlock pulled a face of disgust.

'Oh. OK. So... do you guys have special angel or Heaven food or whatever that you all eat?'

'Nope. I have no need to eat. This vessel is merely for transport. I do not need to give in to its needs.'

'Is that a smart thing to do?' John asked, turning to look back at Sherlock. He had his wings tucked up behind his back but his muscles still twitched from his flight.

'Was holding a gun to your head a smart thing to do?' Sherlock retorted.

'Point taken.' John stood and stretched. 'So, shall we go? I told my mum I was going to eat so would you mind if I got a sandwich or something?'

'Yes, if we really have to. But be quick about it. I'm bored already.'

'Wow you bore easily. Are all angels like this?' John asked as he began walking towards a little sandwich shop.

'Nope. Just me. I'm one of a kind,' Sherlock replied bluntly.

'Great. I get the arse for an angel,' John grumbled.

'Perhaps I got stuck with an arse of a human!' Sherlock growled.

'Fuck you,' John spat. He clenched his hands into fists and stomped the rest of the way to the shop. The owner took one look at him and sat him in a corner booth, handing him a glass of cool water.

'Bad day, John?' he asked.

'Quite,' John mumbled, looking at Sherlock who was still standing outside. 'I got my angel today.'

'Oh?' The owner turned to look in the direction John was glaring. 'Oh. He's... Um.'

'Exactly,' John sighed. 'And he's a right git too.'

'How about I get you your regular and it'll be on me since you got your angel? But hey, think of it this way: your life can't get any worse now that he's around.'

'You just keep thinking that,' John grumbled as the owner walked away. 'I think it's about to get a lot more frustrating.'

Sherlock stared into the shop with big, sad eyes. His heart suddenly felt too heavy for his chest. Anger coursed through his veins. He had bloody saved John's life and this was how he was repaid? He'd been kicked out of heaven, bound to a human, and now what? The human didn't even want him. Sherlock turned and fled, flying off. Screw it! He was obviously unwanted.

 _Humans are idiots,_  he though to himself.  _Utter idiots._

He needed to clear his head. A good long fly ought to do it.

John watched Sherlock fly off, abandoning him. Good fucking riddance. The angel clearly didn't like the idea of being bound any more than John did. He bit harshly into his sandwich as he stewed over his angel abandoning him already.

Sherlock flew for miles, his huge black wings flapping silently in the wind. It wasn't long however before Sherlock began to feel strange, a little weak. What was wrong? Why was the ground jumping up at him? Oh. Perhaps it wasn't the ground. Perhaps it was him. Oh dear lord. Damn vessel needed food. He didn't have much time to react, or to do anything really. He hit the ground with a loud crack and everything turned black.

John cried out and clutched his head and arm painfully. His vision was swimming, pain shooting throughout his body. The owner of the shop came over, asking if everything was OK.

'Sherlock,' John grit out. 'My angel. I think he's hurt. How can I possibly know that?'

'You two are connected now. If you're apart he can tell when you're distressed and so can you for him.'

'Wish I'd known that before. Ugh!' He clutched his arm tight and leaned forward slightly, taking some pressure off his back. 'I think he fell out of the sky. Can... Can you go look for him? Someone? Please?' John passed out from pain before anyone could answer, but the shop owner moved to make a call to John's mum as well as the local police department.

**...::-::...**

When Sherlock awoke he was in hospital. Ugh. Hospitals. How dull. He tugged at the wires he was attached to and groaned.

'Fuck. Get me out of here!'

'Stop pulling at them you bloody idiot,' John said, scowling. 'You broke your arm when you fell and your skull took a pretty nasty beating as well. And your wings are bruised but otherwise fine. You might want to preen or something to clean your feathers.'

'Ugh. What are you doing here? I thought you wanted nothing to do with me?' Sherlock groaned loudly.

'I could say the same for you,' John grumbled. 'But my mum told me I needed to be here seeing as you're my guardian and all that. So, here I am.'

Sherlock groaned. 'Everything fucking hurts,' he complained. 'Can't they give me something for the pain?'

'They did. And your angel body burned through it all too damn quick. Don't you guys heal faster than humans anyway? You should be fine in, like, a week.'

Sherlock whined and rolled onto his side, wincing visibly. 'Hurts,' he choked out weakly. 'How do humans cope with pain?'

'We don't,' John said bluntly. 'Why do you think so many people commit suicide each year?'

'Wish I could fucking end it. But it isn't so easy for an angel to die.'

'So I've heard,' John sighed. 'And why do you want to die, if I may ask?'

'Because I am, in effect, a slave. I am bound to strict rules. I cannot love. I cannot leave my assigned human. I cannot drink or have fun. I can't feel. I am a slave. I have been from the moment I was created. Death would bring me freedom.'

John frowned. Was being an angel really that bad?

'Look, I'm sorry you're under such strict rules to guard me, but I don't want you around twenty-four-seven any more than you want to be. So I'll allow you to come and go as you please. You give me my space and I'll give you yours.'

'That sounds reasonable,' Sherlock said, nodding. 'I shall try my best to stay out of your life as much as possible.'

'Look, I didn't mean it like that,' John sighed. 'I just meant that, for the time being, while you're healing, I'll give you your space and maybe we can chat or something. I'd like to get to know my angel a bit. I mean, if you're supposed to watch out for me now, I'd like to know who will be saving me, you know? And after that you can roam free and fly wherever and explore Earth and whatnot. You don't have to be glued to my side like most other angels are to their humans. But occasionally I may call for you when I feel I need you and so I'd like you to show up if I need your help or something. That's all I ask. We don't have to be like other bound human-angel pairs. We can be better than all that mushy gushy crap.'

'You think that you can beat the system?' he asked. 'OK. We can try.' He laughed but it turned out into a cry of pure agony as pain shot through him.

'Whoa, whoa, whoa,' John said softly, reaching out to pull Sherlock onto his back. He made sure to avoid jostling his wings, which were sprawled down over the bed and on the floor. Slings had been set up for them, but they refused to stay in them. Stubborn like the angel they belonged to.

'Try not to jostle your arm or chest,' John said softly, still touching Sherlock's unbroken arm, subconsciously noting how warm he was. 'Your ribs are cracked and your arm was broken in three different places. You're lucky you aren't human, otherwise you'd probably be crippled for the rest of your life or dead after a fall like that.'

'Mmm,' Sherlock groaned. 'My brother's gonna kill me. He's always badgering on about how my stupid vessel needs food to s-survive. Oh god. Everything hurts so fucking much.' He squeezed his eyes tightly shut.

'Shhh, Sherlock. Just breathe. Focus on breathing,' John said softly, squeezing Sherlock's unbroken bicep gently. 'Try to take your mind off the pain. Tell me about your brother. What's he like?'

Sherlock grit his teeth together and tried to concentrate on his breathing. 'He's a bloody arsehole. But that's siblings for you.'

'I agree with you there.' John laughed softly. 'My sister's a bitch, but she's family. Do you have any other siblings? Or are all angels technically related since you guys are all created by God?'

Sherlock shrugged. 'I don't really pay attention to the workings of heaven but I suppose we are technically all brothers. Mycroft is the worst though. Utter bastard.'

'Is he one of those angels who thinks he's the boss of everyone?' John smirked.

'Oh. You've met him?' Sherlock joked. 'Pompous idiot thinks he owns Heaven and Earth.'

'Doesn't that go against God's power or something?' John asked. 'And I wasn't sure angels could swear. Doesn't that go against the purity of Heaven or some crap?' He covered his mouth with his hand and gasped softly. 'I'm sorry. I don't mean to question so much about Heaven and all that. I just... I've had my doubts. My parents don't have their angels yet and neither does my sister. I don't know what's OK or not to ask you.'

'It's fine,' Sherlock reassured John. 'Do you wanna know what I think? I think God doesn't exist. I think that it's just us angels up there, constantly fighting each other for power. And to be quite honest I don't give a fuck about the rules. Any of them really.'

'Wait... Are you... are you an atheist angel?'

'Yup.' Sherlock nodded. 'I suppose I am. Problem?'

'No, actually.' John smiled. 'No problem at all. It's a relief actually. I thought when I got my angel he or she would be strictly religious and all that crap. Frankly, despite the angels around us, I'm an atheist too. But don't tell my mum. She thinks I'm a good Christian boy.'

'If only she knew,' Sherlock chuckled. 'What did she have to say about me? Did you tell her why you got me?'

'I had to,' John said softly, looking away. 'How else was I supposed to explain why I blacked out when you fell? I felt your pain, you know. We're connected already. And she cried when I explained and held me a little too tight, but she had good reason to ya know? She wished I had gotten my angel under better circumstances, but it is what it is. She seemed to like you enough when she was here earlier. Said you looked like a kind soul.'

'Me? Kind? I have no idea where she got that idea from,' Sherlock huffed. 'I am far from kind.' He bit his lip and looked at John apologetically. 'Though I am sorry you felt my pain.'

'It's fine. Once you were unconscious I couldn't feel it anymore.' John shrugged nonchalantly and sat in the chair by the bed. 'Though I did tell her that from my first impression you didn't seem very kind. Stubborn and thick-headed. She didn't believe me though. Said all angels seemed that way when they first touched down to Earth. She said we'll both soften eventually and start to like each other a bit more. Maybe even become good friends. Which, if I'm honest, I could really use right now.'

Sherlock cocked his head and hummed. 'I've never had a friend before.'

'Never? Not even in Heaven?' John asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Sherlock shook his head. 'Never.'

'I'm sorry to hear that,' John said with a frown. 'Do you think maybe we could be friends? Egos aside and all that of course.' He smirked.

'If you can put up with me being a dick... then yeah.' Sherlock smiled softly. 'I would like that.'

'Just don't bully me and I think we'll get along fine,' John sighed sadly. 'Sorry. I didn't mean– Sorry.'

Sherlock frowned. 'I'm not going to bully you. I am here to stop the bullies.'

'Only the bullies?' John asked, looking up at his angel. 'Are you going to leave as soon as they stop bullying me? Is that how these things work? Or are you actually bound to me for life now?'

'For life,' Sherlock stated, his voice surprisingly soft. 'I am to protect you from everything. Right now I have to protect you from yourself.'

'Right. OK. Um...' He looked away briefly before his gaze flickered to Sherlock's black wings. He traced their shape with his eyes, soaking them in. They were absolutely beautiful and the first pair of wings he'd laid eyes on. The two angels he'd met prior had had their wings tucked inside their clothes. But he imagined Sherlock's wings had them beat. His wingspan was quite impressive, he'd guess maybe fourteen or fifteen feet from tip to tip, and each feather looked like it'd been dipped in black ink, the old kind people used to write with. They were absolutely gorgeous and the most impressive and beautiful he'd ever laid eyes on.

Sherlock watched John watching him curiously. 'Are you really fascinated by them that much?' He took a deep breath. 'Would you like to touch them?' he asked apprehensively. He hated people touching his wings. The black feathers ruffled slightly as his muscles twitched beneath them in agitation.

'I've never seen an angel's wings before,' John said softly. 'They're amazing.' He looked up at Sherlock briefly and smiled softly, his eyes dancing. 'May I touch them? Would you really let me?'

'You may. Just take it slowly. I don't like people touching them and I don't want to accidently lash out at you.'

'Right. Yeah. Makes sense.' John moved forward slowly, watching Sherlock for any signs of agitation. He slowly reached a hand out to stroke along the humerus of Sherlock's wing, feeling the muscles tense and ripple beneath his hand.

'Wow,' he breathed out softly, smiling brightly. He slowly moved down to the radius and then stroked down a patch of feathers, mesmerised by how soft they felt beneath his fingers. Almost like silk.

Sherlock's wing twitched upwards and curled as though trying to shake John's hand. Sherlock smiled and hummed.

'Actually, it's not too bad. A little weird but... mmm. Nice.'

John laughed softly and continued to stroke the feathers. He hoped one day he would be graced with one. A feather from an angel was the greatest gift of all. It was a sign of trust, loyalty, and a strong bond. Perhaps, in time, he and Sherlock could achieve such a bond. Sherlock let his eyes close, completely exhausted and content.

'Don't stop. So good,' he purred, his wing softening to John's touches and curling around his arm.

John flushed and continued stroking Sherlock's feathers, allowing the wing to pull him closer. Sherlock's wing twitched further and dragged John close. One of them splayed out to caress John's face gently. John couldn't stop the soft moan that escaped his lips at the wing's caress. He closed his eyes and leant into the touch, ignoring the tightening in his trousers.

_I'm not a Winger, I'm not a Winger, I'm not a Winger._

_Maybe I am a Winger._

_No! I'm not!_

_But maybe–_

_No!_

He popped his eyes open and pulled away from Sherlock hastily, covering up his blatant arousal with his hands.

'I'm sorry. I'm so sorry,' he apologised profusely. 'I just... I'm a virgin and horny all the time and everything was so soft and–'

Sherlock snored in reply, fast asleep and totally unaware of how his wings had affected John.

 _Thank god_ , John breathed out in relief. He stood and hobbled off to a bathroom to take care of his still growing problem. Once he finished he returned to Sherlock's room and curled up on the bench in front of the window, falling asleep to the beeping of his angel's heart monitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure when the next chapter will be posted, but updates will not be occurring Mondays this time. My Mondays are completely packed from noon to 8 p.m., so I'll be dead at the end of the day. I'm thinking maybe Tuesdays, Thursdays, or Fridays for now. We'll see how it goes. I'll find a rhythm at some point.
> 
> We'll see you guys after InvisibleBlade has recovered from the series 3 finale and I've had my viewing party with my friends and we've all recovered as well.
> 
> Until next time!
> 
> TSA + IB


	3. Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! This is a short chapter I'm afraid, but it's a good one. Lots of fluff. This is all John and Sherlock, so do enjoy :)

_'Hello. Don't worry. You're still fast asleep. I just wanted to know what humans dream of.'_

_'I... I'm sorry. What?' John stammered, looking around before turning back to Sherlock. 'How did you get inside my head? I thought you couldn't read my mind?'_

_'I can't. I can, however, take a peek in your dreams.'_

_'So that's what this is?' John asked, taking in the sweeping countryside. 'My dream?'_

_'It's quite a beautiful dream,' Sherlock mused._

_'It's just countryside.' John shrugged. 'This is usually what I dream about when I'm stressed though. This is my peaceful place and I usually wake up calmer than when I went to sleep.'_

_'Mmm,' Sherlock hummed. 'I can see why. It's, err, nice here.'_

_'I like it a lot.' John smiled. 'Why don't you fly for a bit? I think I'd enjoy watching you fly.'_

_'Wanna hop on?' Sherlock asked softly, crouching down._

_'I– Oh my god, can I?!' John asked in excitement. He raced over to Sherlock and clambered onto his back, making himself comfortable. He stroked one of Sherlock's wings softly, utterly amazed that he was doing this. Holy fuck, he was riding an angel._

_'Hold on tight.' Sherlock chuckled, running and jumping into flight, his wings flapping heavily as they began to soar in the sky. John gasped softly and wrapped his arms around Sherlock's chest and his arms around his waist, holding onto him tightly._

_**Oh my god. Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod. This is so... Exhilarating! I'm flying with an angel!** _

_'Maybe when I'm better we can do this for real,' Sherlock called out to the boy on his back. 'You seem to enjoy it.'_

_'Oh my god! Can we?!' John exclaimed, laughing joyously._

_'Of course. I'll have to eat some damn food first though. Otherwise I'd risk falling with you on my back.'_

_'Yeah. Let's not risk that,' John agreed. 'This is amazing, though. I can't wait to try it for real.'_

_Sherlock sighed happily. 'I like flying. It makes me forget that I am a slave. It makes me feel free.'_

_'It feels very freeing, yes,' John agreed. 'I wish I could fly like you can.'_

_'This is as close as you're gonna get.' Sherlock smirked slightly._

_'Well, seeing as this is_ _**my** _ _dream, can't I just sprout a pair of wings for myself?' To his amazement, yes he could. He felt them growing even as he was speaking the thought. He glanced back and was amazed to see a striking pair of brown, speckled wings protruding from his back. My god, they were gorgeous. He tested them out as best he could, flapping them experimentally, and laughed for joy._

_'Land. Sherlock, land. You gotta see this.'_

_Sherlock laughed. 'No need to land.' He flipped John off his back and laughed harder as he began to fly._

_John screamed like a teenage girl at a One Direction concert as he fell. But he soon realised he wasn't falling. He was flying. He was actually flying! He removed his hands from his face and looked around until his gaze met Sherlock's. The angel looked incredibly cocky and John scowled at him._

_'Sherlock, you bloody idiot!' he screeched. 'What if I'd fallen to my death?! I've never flown before! I don't know how these things work! What if I'd died?!'_

_'This is a dream, John,' Sherlock scoffed. 'You weren't going to die. Now follow me. I'll race ya.' He swooped off in one swift motion. John whooped for joy and took off after him, flying naturally and with ease. He caught up fairly quickly and ruffled Sherlock's curls, laughing when the angel managed to scowl and pout simultaneously. Sherlock growled playfully and gently flapped his wing against John's face._

_'Not funny.' He scowled when John laughed and flapped his wings harder, flying ahead._

_'So where are we going?' John asked after they'd flown around for a few minutes._

_'Anywhere and everywhere. This is your dream,' Sherlock pointed out._

_'Well, I've always wanted to go to California,' John mused. 'I hear the weather is gorgeous all year.' He suddenly flew past a palm tree and nearly collided with another. He cried out as he actually crashed into one and slid down its trunk and onto the ground._

_'Fuck,' he choked out, trying not to cry. 'That fucking hurt. I hate it when dreams transition that fast.'_

_Sherlock flew to the ground at the speed of ligh. 'Are you... OK?' he asked worriedly._

_'I'm fine,' John choked out, wiping at his eyes._ _**Don't you dare fucking cry, Watson!** _ _'I just... I'm fine.'_

_'Nope. You're not.' Sherlock knelt down and pulled John into a gentle embrace._

_**Don't you fucking cry, don't you fucking cry, don't you fucking cry,** _ _John told himself as he tentatively wrapped his arms around Sherlock. His lower lip was trembling and he was sniffling despite himself._ _**Don't you fucking cry!** _

_'Hey. It's just a dream. You're not really hurt.' Sherlock's black wings came to wrap around John tightly._

_'I know,' John choked out. 'But... I'm only human. Things are gonna hurt no matter what.' He clutched tighter to Sherlock and breathed deeply, swallowing the sobs that threatened to burst forth. 'I wanna go back to the countryside. I know that place. Less chance of me flying into a fucking tree.'_

_'Shhh.' Sherlock nuzzled John's head gently. 'It's OK. Just think of the countryside. Think of flying over those vast green plains. It'll be OK.'_

_John did. He closed his eyes and imagined his countryside. The rolling green hills, the soft grass beneath his feet, the open sky, the fresh air and the cool breeze on his face. He hummed softly when he felt the ground he was sitting on soften and a breeze started ruffling Sherlock's feathers. He opened his eyes and smiled softly up at his angel._

_'Thank you,' he said softly. 'Thank you so much.'_

_'It's, err... OK.' Sherlock smiled and released John. 'It's the least I could do I suppose.'_

_'So... do you want to fly around for a bit before I wake up? Usually when I'm this calm is about when my body decides to wake up.'_

_'You go,' Sherlock said softly, a frown embedded in his forehead. He could feel the pain of his vessel. His real body was in bloody agony and in a way that the pain was passing into his dream body too._

_'Hey, you OK?' John asked before he gasped sharply in pain, clutching his ribs. 'Sherlock?' He looked up at his angel, asking him with his eyes to explain. Sherlock was practically blinded by the pain now._

_'It's OK,' he choked out before falling sideways onto the ground with a loud scream, his whole body shuddering._

John gasped awake, still clutching at his ribs, and panted harshly as he came back down to Earth. When he had his wits about him he turned to Sherlock and saw a medical team was already working on him, giving him as much morphine as was allowed for a human.

'He's an angel!' John cried, pushing against one of the nurses. 'A normal human dose will do nothing for him! He needs more! Please!'

The medical team all turned to look at John, not saying anything. Sherlock's heart monitor was still beeping radically, his body still convulsing in pain. Finally, someone nodded and injected Sherlock with more morphine, enough to kill a human, and his heart started calming and he relaxed against his mattress.

'Thank you,' John choked out. 'Thank you.'

Sherlock stared at John with a pained but thankful expression on his face before his eyes slipped shut and he fell asleep with a loud whimper.

'It'll be OK now, Sherlock,' John said softly, smoothing a hand through Sherlock's curls. 'But I'm gonna have to go eat now, me being a human and all. I'll be back. You rest.' He squeezed Sherlock's hand gently and left to go the the cafeteria, simply getting a bowl of soup and some tea. He didn't think he could stomach anything heavier at the moment.

Sherlock dreamed. He dreamed of the funny human boy. He dreamed of having John fly by his side. He dreamed of a life that made him feel happy, a life where he was free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short update. Things will be slowing down here while I'm at school. I'm taking a fiction writing course and my time and energy will be mostly put toward writing for that class. Fanfiction will take a backseat for a bit I'm afraid. School is more important right now anyway.
> 
> Updates will be sporadic or maybe once a week. I will still occasionally publish a one-shot or two, but updates will generally be slowing down. Just a heads up for you all.
> 
> Until next time!
> 
> TSA + IB


	4. A Bit Out of Character

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter I'm afraid. My Sherlock watch party is nearing, so I figured a quick update was in order. Since this one is so short, I might post the next one later today or early tomorrow.
> 
> InvisibleBlade: Sherlock and Mycroft  
> Me: John
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: intentional bodily harm, cutting

John's mother made him come home for dinner. Sherlock was still asleep and he probably wouldn't be waking for some time. So she took him home and fed him a proper dinner and put him in his own bed to sleep. John couldn't sleep though. He was too worried about his angel. Then he remembered that they could dream together and he forced himself to fall asleep.

_'Sorry about earlier. Ready to fly now?'_

_'Is everything OK?' John asked, inspecting Sherlock for signs of injury. 'What happened? I felt it in my ribs.'_

_'There's nothing for you to worry about. It wasn't anything a bit of morphine couldn't fix,' Sherlock reassured John. 'Now, shall we fly?'_

_'Yeah. OK. I just... I'm sorry for how I treated you earlier. Outside the café. Maybe if I'd been a little more appreciative you wouldn't have flown off and fallen. I'm sorry.'_

_'It's OK. I understand that I'm not one of the easiest beings to like. They have a nickname for me up in Heaven.' Sherlock stepped closer to John. 'They call me the freak.'_

_'That's just mean.' John frowned. 'I don't think you're a freak. I actually kinda like you. As a friend, mind you.'_

_Sherlock smirked. 'You don't have to keep on telling me, you know. That you're not gay or a Winger. It means little to me and it just highlights your insecurities.'_

_'But I'm not either of those!' John protested. 'I'm not!'_

_Sherlock sighed. 'And as I have said, it means nothing to me. Now do shut up.'_

_John clamped his lips shut and huffed. He took off in flight without warning and flew up, up, up, away from the ground and Sherlock._

_'Hey!' Sherlock yelled after John, taking off in flight too. He soon caught up to him, his huge black wings spurring him on quickly through the air. John ignored Sherlock, focusing instead on his flying and how peaceful it felt. He felt powerful and free. He could definitely see the appeal of why Sherlock enjoyed it so much._

_Sherlock grumbled something in annoyance just below John's hearing range and playfully bumped against him to try to gain his attention. John grumbled in reply and flicked his gaze ahead. He made a tree grow just ahead of Sherlock and tried very hard not to laugh when the angel crashed into it and got tangled in the branches. He flew back and landed on a branch just above Sherlock, smirking._

_'Not so fun when it's you, is it?' he sneered._

_Sherlock looked up at John, a look of pure agony and hurt crossing his features. He didn't understand. Moments before this human had wanted to be friends. And now he had purposely hurt him. He held back his screams. He didn't want to give the human the pleasure to see his pain. He simply slipped from the dream and woke up screaming. The pain of the fall and the pain of John hurting him rocketing through him._

_'Good riddance,' John huffed. He flew around for a little while before growing bored and changing his dream. Now he was with Mary, and she was lovely and perfect and she was kissing him. He hummed and kissed her back passionately despite never having kissed anyone before. Somehow he grew bored of this as well and went to search for Sherlock. He wanted to go flying with him again. But he couldn't find him. He'd really left the dream. Now John felt awful for what he'd done to his angel. He needed to go see him, and now._

He woke up slowly, noting that it was five a.m. He climbed out of bed silently and got dressed quickly. He grabbed some money to buy food at the cafeteria and silently snuck downstairs and out the door. Thank god the hospital was within walking distance of his house. He got there in twenty minutes and made his way up to Sherlock's room.

'Sherlock?' he whispered softly. 'Sherlock, are you awake?'

'Sherlock Holmes is no concern of yours, at least for now anyway,' Mycroft Holmes, an angel with a fierce reputation, snarled behind the young teenage boy. 'I'm afraid he had to go into intensive care after he sustained further damage. Damage I believe you caused. If I were you I'd be careful of what you dream whilst my brother is contained within your dreams. He is a very poorly angel indeed.'

John gasped and spun around, clutching his hand to his chest. The angel standing before him looked absolutely menacing, his massive grey wings spread out behind him.

'Intensive care?' he gulped, paling considerably. 'I... It was only a dream. I didn't think he'd actually get hurt. I wasn't hurt when I crashed into the tree in my previous dream. Why did he?'

'Dear lord. What are they teaching the children of Earth these days?' Mycroft snarled. 'You are connected to him, John. Bonded for life. This means several things. You can feel his pain and he can feel yours. Hmmm. Since you're not screaming in agony I would say it's a safe bet that Sherlock has blocked the bond. It is only something that an angel does when they feel threatened. I do believe you're the being threatening him.' He took a deep breath. 'It also means that he can join in your dreams but whilst he joins you he is at his most vulnerable seeing as he is in your mind and you hold full control over him. Meaning when you chose to hurt him in the dream you hurt him in real life too. You mangled his wings. He won't be able to fly for weeks now! I simply think it's unacceptable that you can't feel what he's going through.' Mycroft stepped forwards and placed the palm of one of his hands against John's head. 'Feel his pain boy!' he hissed loudly, unblocking the bond with ease.

John cried out in agony and collapsed to the floor, twitching madly, his hands scrabbling to fix wings that weren't there.

'I'm sorry! I'm sorry!' he cried, curling up in a ball as he continued to twitch.

'Are you?' Mycroft hissed. 'I don't think you're quite sorry enough. Do you know what it's like for an angel to not be able to fly? To have that taken away from him?!'

'Yes!' John cried, writhing around on the floor. 'Yes I'm sorry and yes I know how Sherlock is going to feel when he can't fly! He told me it makes him feel free! And I've taken that away from him! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!'

Mycroft lifted his hand away. 'Go home. Don't come back here. Sherlock will find you when he is well enough. Try to think about what you have done and come up with a bloody good apology for when he returns to you.'

John choked on a sob as he stood on shaky legs and ran away, tears falling down his cheeks. Why had he been so cruel? Why had he done that to Sherlock? He'd said he was treated like a freak in Heaven, and what had John gone and done? Treated him like dirt. He was no better than the bullies who picked on him.

He entered his home and climbed the stairs to his room and locked himself inside. He pulled out a box of blades and cut deep into his wrist, watching the blood drip down his hand and into his bin. When he deemed his punishment done for the day he bandaged his wrist and crawled back into bed, clutching onto a spare pillow and crying into it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the feels. Next chapter is better. And we get to learn a bit more about John's family. See you then.
> 
> TSA + IB


	5. A Thousand Apologies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I have great news! I am all caught up with series 3! My roommates and I finally sat down and watched all three episodes and ate pizza and cookies. All I can say is as;ldkg;kjhas;kldfwkihkn;doinvaf ALL THE FEELS
> 
> Here is the resolution to John's very out of character behaviour. It's a happy ending and we get to meet John's family. For the purposes of this story, John's mum is named Carol and his father is named Scott.
> 
> InvisibleBlade: Sherlock  
> Me: John, Mrs Watson, Mr Watson, Harry Watson
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: cutting, masturbation

One month. That was how long it took Sherlock's wings to recover from the tree incident, or at least to look a little less mangled and for the need for high doses of morphine to subside. It took him a good few weeks longer before he got the guts to go and see John again. He knocked on the door of the Watson residence lightly, not able to fly in, his wings still bandaged.

Mrs Watson opened the door, a soft smile on her face.

'Hello. I was wondering when you would come back.' She ushered him inside, being mindful of his injuries. 'Would you like some tea and biscuits, or do you just want to go see Jonathan now?'

'May I see him now please? Not that I am ungrateful of your hospitality,' Sherlock said, smiling politely.

'Yes, of course,' she said. 'He's in his room. I trust you know how to get there?'

Sherlock nodded curtly. 'Yes. I know my way.'

'OK.' She turned to leave but paused. She turned back, her mouth pressed into a thin line. 'He didn't tell me everything, but I inferred he's the one who hurt you. I wish I could make things better, but if you ever need a break from him you can come talk to me of you want. I know how difficult he can be at times.'

'It's quite alright, Mrs Watson. I probably deserved it. I shall be going now.' He turned and made his slow journey to John's room.

'He's barely been out of his room since what happened,' she called after him. 'And I'm pretty sure he hasn't eaten. Take care of him please, because he won't listen to me.'

Sherlock frowned at those words and knocked on John's door. 'John, it's me. Open up.'

John's head snapped up at the sound of Sherlock's voice. He set down his blade, not bothering to bandage his new cuts, and rushed to the door, wrenching it open harshly. He didn't speak, couldn't speak, so he just wrapped his arms around Sherlock in a tight hug and whimpered.

'Shhh,' Sherlock whispered. 'I apologise for not coming sooner. Now, show me your arms. I can fix your scars.'

John shook his head and clutched to Sherlock tighter, burying his face in his shoulder. A small sob escaped him as he felt the bandages holding Sherlock's wings together. He'd done that. He'd deprived his angel of flight.

'John.' Sherlock nuzzled John's hair. 'I'm OK. Really.'

John shook his head again and pulled Sherlock into his room, shutting the door behind them. He still held onto his angel tightly, never wanting to let go.

'I crippled you,' he choked out. 'I damaged your wings. Made you unable to fly. I... I'm so sorry.'

'You really weren't to know,' Sherlock mumbled. 'I apologise for my brother's behaviour. He clearly shook you up quite badly.'

'I... I thought he was gonna kill me,' John whimpered. 'Or that I'd killed you. He... he made me feel your pain. Sherlock... I'm so sorry. I can't believe I did that to you. I'm so sorry.'

Sherlock sighed softly and led John over to the bed, clambering on top of him and hugging him tightly.

'The pain was nothing too bad, honestly. It barely registered on my radar.'

'I was writhing around on the floor,' John sniffled. 'I nearly blacked out from it. I just... I'm so sorry. Will you... Will you fly with me in my dream tonight? Will you be able to?'

'I...' Sherlock frowned. 'I don't know if I can. I... no.'

'No you won't be able to fly or no you won't join me in my dream?' John sniffled.

'I won't join you in your dream,' Sherlock stated.

'Why not?' John whimpered, fresh tears pooling in his eyes. 'Please. I've been so lonely without you. And I feel absolutely terrible about what I've done. Sherlock... Please? I promise never to harm you again. Please? I... I haven't been sleeping much at all since that night. Nightmares. I... I could use a good dream for once.'

Sherlock nodded reluctantly. 'OK. Fine. But firstly let me make your scars all better. Give me your arms.'

'I don't want you to make my scars better,' John said softly. 'They're there to remind me of how fucking stupid I am.'

'Give me your arms,' Sherlock ordered, scowling at John.

John sighed and looked away, reluctantly presenting Sherlock his arms. He didn't want to start another fight, not so soon after Sherlock coming back to him. Sherlock gently took John's arms in his hands and leant down, placing a kiss on each scar and watching in satisfaction as they all disappeared. John's breath caught in his throat as he felt Sherlock's warm lips on his arms. He closed his eyes and thought of the most disgusting things imaginable, not wanting to get an erection again. Damn his virginity always making him horny. He really needed to get laid.

'All done.' Sherlock gently let go of John's arms. 'Is there anywhere else you scarred yourself? Don't lie to me.'

John wiggled his hips and looked away in shame. There was no way he'd be able to stop himself from getting an erection now. Not if Sherlock was going to be planting kisses at his thighs.

'Trousers off,' Sherlock said firmly. 'Take them off or I'll bloody do it for you.'

John groaned and moved to remove his trousers, sliding them down his thighs but stopping when he reached the end of his scars. There was no fucking way he was gonna remove them all the way when that was all Sherlock needed to see, technically speaking. Sherlock frowned but quickly smiled and kissed each scar. John bit his lip hard to keep from moaning and dug his fingers into his sheets as Sherlock kissed his scars gingerly. Fuck, that felt good. More than good. It felt brilliant.

_I'm_ _**not** _ _gay. I'm_ _**not** _ _a Winger. I_ _**don't** _ _have an erection._

_Fuck. I have an erection._

_Sherlock, stop. Oh god, don't ever stop. Keep going. Please._

He couldn't stop the little whimper that burst forth nor the small thrust of his hips as Sherlock's breath ghosted over his cock as he passed over to his other thigh. Fuck. He was gonna be in so much trouble. Sherlock kissed John's other thigh tenderly. He looked at John apologetically.

'Sorry for making you feel so... aroused.'

'I'm sorry,' John whispered, looking away, cheeks red from humiliation. 'I'm still a virgin and everything turns me on at this point. I... It's my body chemistry, not you.'

'A good thing too as it's rather illegal to like me in that way.' Sherlock patted John's inner thighs and pulled his trousers up.

'Plus I'm not gay,' John mumbled more to himself than to Sherlock. He rolled out from under Sherlock and hobbled off to his bathroom, locking the door behind him. He already knew his erection wasn't going to go away on his own, so he decided to make quick work of it.

He shucked off his trousers and pants and got into a comfortable position, grasping his throbbing prick and pumping it steadily, whimpering at his touch. He snaked his other hand down to play with his bollocks and moaned, closing his eyes and throwing his head back. His legs gradually spread as far as they could go, spreading himself open like a wanton whore. He began fucking his fist and moaned and groaned loudly, wracking his brain for scenes from his favourite pornos. He came suddenly, his toes curling at the force of his orgasm, and he gasped sharply, whimpering as he rode it out.

When he finished he cleaned himself up and washed his hands. He pulled his pants and trousers back on and checked himself in the mirror to make sure he looked presentable. But when he opened the door he came face-to-face with a very curious and puzzled Sherlock.

Sherlock cocked his head to one side. 'Did I do that to you?' he asked John in wonderment.

John flushed deep red and swallowed audibly, his throat suddenly dry. 'I... No... but yes. Virgin. Teenager. Always horny. And you were down by my... cock. So, um, yes I was aroused but it wasn't because of you.'

'Hmmm,' Sherlock hummed, studying John carefully. 'I am eternally grateful that I am neither a teenager or... horny. It seems rather time consuming.'

'Yeah, well, I guess with that attitude you won't have to worry about being grounded. So, um... It's about dinner time. Would you stay and eat with us? And I'm sure my mum will insist as well. And I suppose you should meet my father and my sister too.'

'I suppose... if I have to,' Sherlock sighed loudly. 'As long as there's no meat in the food.' He wrinkled up his nose and shuddered. 'Meat is bloody disgusting.'

'Vegetarian?' John asked as he opened his bedroom door to lead Sherlock downstairs.

Sherlock shrugged. 'I don't really know. To be honest I hate all Earth food. It's so... dull.'

'Then what have you been eating to keep your strength up while you healed?' John lead Sherlock down into the sitting room, where his father was watching some sport on TV. John didn't much care for sports. He was too small for most of them anyway.

'I've been eating. That's all you need to know,' Sherlock answered briefly and bluntly.

'Um.. OK. Well, Sir? There's someone I'd like you to meet,' he said as politely as he could manage. His sister was a lot like their father, short tempered and quite sweary. Thankfully he seemed to have caught his father in a good mood.

'Is this the angel your mum told me about?' the man asked, standing from his chair to approach the angel. Sherlock stood up a little straighter and extended his hand out to John's father for him to shake.

'It's a pleasure to meet you at last, Mr Watson. I am Sherlock Holmes and you are correct. I am John's angel.'

The man took Sherlock's hand and grasped it, shaking it nice and firm. 'It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr Holmes. I only wish you had arrived in better circumstances.' He glared over at John and the teenager swallowed. Fuck. He was in trouble. Sherlock glanced over to John before returning his gaze to John's father.

'Please, feel free to call me Sherlock, Mr Watson. And I can assure you that I'll keep your son in line.' He sent an unseen wink over to John. 'He's in good hands. I am Mycroft Holmes' brother.'

Yes. Good. Everyone knew who Mycroft was. He was one of the biggest angel names out there. One of the most respected and feared too.

'Mycroft's brother, eh?' Mr Watson smiled. 'Good. My boy could use some Holmes discipline to keep him straight. Now, are you staying for dinner? Carol has prepared a lovely spread tonight.'

'I'd love to stay for dinner. I may not be able to eat much however. The medication I'm on because of my still healing wings is rather strong and therefore dampens my hunger. I've been assured that she cooks the most delightful of meals though, so I shall try my best.'

'Yes, I heard about your accident. Flew into a tree? The city really needs to clean up these blasted trees if angels are flying into them all the time,' Mr Watson grumbled. 'John, show Mr Holmes to the dining room. I'll fetch your sister.'

'Yes, Sir.' John nodded curtly. He ushered Sherlock over to the adjoining room and hid behind the wall. 'You may want to cover your ears,' he told Sherlock, covering his own. 'Incoming, Mum!' he warned as well.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. 'I'm not frightened of her, John,' he stated boldly.

'That's not what I'm warning you about,' John said, cut off partially as his father yelled up the stairs, his booming voice nearly shaking the entire house.

'Harriet! Get your pampered arse down here and eat some dinner!'

'I ain't hungry!'

'Don't give me that bull! Get down here now! Your brother's angel is here and you have to be polite and meet him!'

'I don't wanna!'

'Get! Down! Here! Now!'

'Fine! Ya stupid git!'

The shouting stopped and John removed his hands from his ears. Seemed the coast was clear. He checked around the corner. His father was back to watching sports and Harry was stomping around upstairs doing god knows what until she came down. John sighed and went into the kitchen, his mother still covering her ears. John touched her wrist gently and she opened her eyes, looking at him a little dazed.

'All clear,' he mouthed to her. She nodded and uncovered her ears, sighing loudly. She looked over to Sherlock apologetically and plastered a fake smile on her face.

'Sorry about that dear. Those two are always so difficult. Now, I heard you say you won't be eating much, but that's alright. I just want to make sure I didn't cook anything you're allergic to or something. I'm not even sure if angels can have allergies. Can they?'

'No, we are immune to such things, Mrs Watson.' Sherlock smiled brightly. 'And it is quite alright. I can assure you that I have endured far worse with my own siblings. Family, eh?'

'Yes, family,' she said softly. 'Jonathan, why don't you go set the table? I still have a few things to do out here.'

'Of course, Mum,' John said softly. He moved to the cupboard and pulled out five plates, then got out forks, knives, and spoons. He kissed his mum on the cheek as he passed by and went into the dining room, setting the plates and silverware out.

Sherlock walked over to John. 'Your family seems nice,' he whispered against the blonde's ear.

'You say that now,' John whispered back sarcastically. 'You haven't met my sister yet.'

'I'm certain I will hate her. I'm just trying to be polite.'

'Good luck with that. Harry'll test your patience. Mark my words.'

'In which case I may just have to kill her.'

'Oh, would you please?' John laughed softly.

Sherlock stepped closer and placed his arm around John. 'If that would make you happy, then yes.'

'I was  _joking_ , Sherlock,' John hissed. 'And stop touching me like that. It makes me uncomfortable. And my father already thinks I'm queer. Your touches won't help me prove to him that I'm not.'

'I am an  _angel_ , John. My brother is the most feared and respected angel out there. Your father would not dare accuse us of having homosexual feelings,' Sherlock hissed back angrily and removed his arm.

'True, but that won't stop Harry.' Loud stomping could still be heard from his sister and suddenly she was stomping down the hall and to the stairs. 'Brace yourself. Here comes Hurricane Harriet.'

Sherlock sighed loudly. 'Luckily I'm fairly weather resistant,' he joked.

John giggled softly but stopped abruptly when Harry rounded the corner. She looked a mess, her clothes slapped on haphazardly, her boots scuffed and untied, her hair a tangle of knots, and her eyes bloodshot. What had she gotten into now?

'Hi,' she said, smiling politely at Sherlock. 'You must be the angel that saved my brother's life. Stupid git was gonna kill himself and you saved him.' She looked to John, wobbling slightly. 'Wish he hadn't. Idiot has no future. It'd be better if ya just ended it,' she breathed in his face. John wrinkled up his nose in distaste. She smelled of bad breath and stale alcohol. Sherlock stepped forwards and fixed John's sister with ice cold eyes. He smirked. Angels could manipulate humans into feeling things. It was fantastic for people he didn't like. And he definitely didn't like Harriet. Right now he was pouring fear into her heart. Pure fear.

'What're you doing?' she slurred, watching the angel for any sort of sudden movement. But he wasn't doing anything. Not that she could see. Wait... Something was crawling up her leg. She looked down and shrieked in terror. The biggest spider she'd ever seen in her life was on her fucking jeans. And now there were more of them coming for her.

'Get them off! Get them off!' she shrieked, frozen to the spot with fear. 'Please! Someone get them off!'

John watched his sister scream at nothing. He was trying very hard not to smile. He froze too when his father stomped into the room.

'What the bloody hell is going on in here?' he demanded. 'Harriet! Why are you shrieking?'

'Spiders! So many spiders!' she sobbed. 'Kill them, Daddy! Please!'

'Spiders? What spiders? I don't see any spiders?'

'They're all over me!' Harry sobbed, her hand twitching slightly as one began to crawl up her arm. 'Daddy, please!'

Mr Watson looked over to Sherlock and scowled. 'You're doing this,' he growled. He pointed a meaty finger at the angel's chest and then back at Harriet. 'Stop this now or you won't ever be able to set foot in my house again.'

Sherlock's nostrils flared. Time to take Mr Watson down a notch. He turned his sharp glare to him and injected paralysing fear into him, keeping Harriet scared witless at the same time.

'What do you think you're doing, boy?' a loud voice boomed behind Mr Watson. He froze, something he rarely did. Not since... since... He turned and saw his own father glaring back at him.

'I said what are you doing? Answer me, boy!'

John watched as his father and sister became paralysed with fear. It wasn't until his mother came in to investigate that he realised what was really going on.

'Is everything OK in here?' she asked softly. 'Sherlock? John?' When she saw her husband and daughter curled up in balls on the floor she shrieked and rushed to their sides. 'What's going on? What's wrong? Someone tell me, please!'

'I do believe they're coming down with something,' Sherlock said, releasing his hold on both Mr Watson and Harriet. 'You should get a doctor to check it out.'

'Don't lie to me!' Mrs Watson cried, looking up at the angel. 'What did you do?'

Sherlock glanced up at Mrs Watson and pumped trust into her. She instantly relaxed. 'Nothing. I swear Mrs Watson. I know a sick human when I see one.'

'Yes, of course,' she muttered, looking down at her husband and daughter. 'You two should go to bed. Don't want you getting the rest of the household sick.' She helped them up and ushered them upstairs, tucking them both into bed.

John turned to Sherlock and scowled. 'What did you do to my family?'

'I... I did it for you, John. I thought you'd be happy.' Sherlock blinked in surprise.

'I don't care about my father and sister, thanks for that. It was quite entertaining. But what did you do to my mum?'

'I made her trust me. It's for her own good, really.'

'She already trusted you! You're an angel! My mum trusts all of you!'

'Oh, for fuck's sake!' Sherlock growled, 'I'm going.'

'Sherlock! Sherlock wait!' John grabbed onto his arms and held him still, looking up into his eyes. 'I'm sorry. I seem to fuck everything up around you. I have no idea how to act around an angel or deal with all your magical things. I think maybe we should chat after dinner and get used to one another and talk about what's ok or not to say or do around one another.'

Sherlock sighed and softened slightly. 'OK. Sorry for over-reacting. I'm quite a drama queen.'

'Yes you are, but I kinda like it. At least you aren't a boring angel,' John said with a smirk.

Mrs Watson returned and smiled softly at Sherlock and her son. She sat them at the table and brought out dinner, sitting down by her son.

'Sherlock, I know this is probably silly of me to ask, but would you say grace tonight?'

Sherlock nodded. 'Of course I'll say grace, Mrs Watson.' He refrained himself from rolling his eyes. Why did everyone think he believed in God just because he was an angel? He bowed his head and put his hands together, saying the traditional 'our father' prayer. Mrs Watson smiled and bowed her head, John following suit only out of politeness. Sherlock finished with a loud sigh of 'Amen.'

'Amen,' John and Mrs Watson chorused. They opened their eyes and Mrs Watson smiled at Sherlock.

'Thank you. That was lovely, dear. Now go ahead and dig in. Don't be afraid to have seconds if you find something you particularly like.'

'Thanks, Mrs Watson.' Sherlock smiled and began to nibble at his food.

John piled his plate up with mashed potatoes and mixed vegetables, grabbing a side of meatloaf as a second thought. He dug into his food, almost shovelling it into his mouth and eating quickly.

'Jonathan!' his mum scolded. 'Eat slower!'

'But I'm hungry!'

'I'm happy to see you eating again but please, slow down and don't eat like such a pig!'

John huffed but ate slower, still taking large bites of his food though. Sherlock frowned. John would get a severe tummy ache later. Why eat so much and so quickly? Sherlock could barely stomach a mouthful of food and he ate at an incredibly slow pace. Food was disgusting. John looked over at Sherlock's plate, noting that only a small amount of vegetables was on it. He raised an eyebrow and cocked his head at the food. Sherlock looked at John blankly and pushed his plate away.

'You may have them. I apologise, Mrs Watson but my medication really does dampen my hunger.'

'Oh, it's fine, dear,' she said, smiling softly. 'I know angels don't eat much anyway. Jonathan, though, should quit while he's ahead. Clear the table and put the leftovers away.'

'Yes, Mum,' John said, swallowing his mouthful of mashed potatoes. He kissed her on the cheek and began to clear the table, gathering the food and putting them in storage containers before putting them in the fridge.

Sherlock stood to his feet. 'I am afraid I have to leave now. I shall return tomorrow. I have to see my brother about an important matter. Thank you for your hospitality. Sleep well, John. Sweet dreams.'

'But I thought we were gonna have a chat tonight?' John pouted.

'Let him go, Jonathan. Your angel shall return,' Mrs Watson said. 'Take care, Sherlock. And I wish you a speedy recovery.'

'We will chat,' Sherlock stated. 'As I said, sweet dreams.' He nodded curtly at Mrs Watson. 'Thank you, Mrs Watson. I hope to see you soon.'

She waved as Sherlock left, standing to clear the plates and watch Sherlock traipse down the pavement.

'He seems nice.' She smiled at John. 'And am I to take it he has been visiting you in your dreams?'

'Yes, but he hasn't been since... the incident. And how did you know angels can visit your dreams? Even I didn't know that.'

'I read a lot, dear. You should try it. Might do you some good.'

'Yeah, OK. May I go to my room?'

'Of course. I love you.'

'I love you too, Mum.' He kissed her cheek and went upstairs to his room, shutting and locking his door. He opened his laptop and began researching angel behaviours and all the things they could do with and to humans. He stayed up late into the night until his eyelids began to droop. He flopped onto his bed and fell asleep nearly instantly, waiting for Sherlock to arrive in his dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See? Much better. Things work themselves out soon. Our boys share another dream and all is right with their world ;)
> 
> I'm not sure when I'll update, but maybe by the weekend.
> 
> Until next time!
> 
> TSA + IB


	6. A New Dynamic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Happy Saturday! Since I had some time I decided an update would be a good thing to do :) Especially since Sherlock is on again tomorrow night ;) I can't wait to watch The Sign of Three again.
> 
> This chapter is a bit short, but it's a new dynamic to John and Sherlock's relationship. Next chapter features some more "interesting" bits ;)
> 
> InvisibleBlade: Sherlock, Mycroft  
> Me: John
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: dream sex, dream oral sex, some feels, talk of abuse (past and continuing), dick comparison, angel erections, sexual identity crisis

'I need to go see John! I promised!' Sherlock screamed at his brother.

'Hmm,' Mycroft huffed, his silver wings twitching in agitation. 'You seem to be remarkably attached to him for someone who despises human beings.'

'I'm his angel!'

'That means something, Sherlock. It means you protect him! It doesn't mean you get attached.'

'We're bonded for life!'

'That can always be changed, Sherlock. You have to ensure that you are not... emotionally attached.'

'Fuck off!'

'Language!' Mycroft scowled at his baby brother.

'I believe it's English!' Sherlock said sarcastically.

**...::-::...**

_John was incredibly disappointed when Sherlock didn't show up. He sat in his meadow, pouting, his dream wings twitching, until he decided to change things. He made his own Sherlock angel appear. So they flew around for a while before John got tired of it, so instead they talked about small things, Sherlock telling John what he wanted to hear. Then his damn teenager libido took over and suddenly they were both naked sprawled out on a large bed, still in John's meadow, and Sherlock was sucking John off._

_'Gah! Fuck! Don't stop, Sherlock! Please!' John cried._

_Sherlock finally got away from his brother to sleep, entering John's dream. What he saw there made him freeze. His eyes popped from his skull._

_'Err... I... I'll leave you two to it,' he stammered. He couldn't leave the dream fast enough. John barely noticed Sherlock's arrival and departure. He was too focused on his own Sherlock giving him the best head he'd ever dreamed of. All too soon he was cumming, shooting down Sherlock's throat._ No, wait... He was cumming in his own pants. He groaned loudly and shucked them off, turning over and going back to sleep.

_'Brilliant. You're finished.' Sherlock clapped his hands together, scowling at John in his dream. 'Not a gay Winger my arse.'_

_'I... I'm not... I don't know what I am,' John said softly, looking away from Sherlock in shame. 'If I ever turned out to be gay my father would kill me. And my mum... She thinks I'm a good, straight, Christian boy. But a gay atheist? She'd disown me.'_

_'Either way refrain from using me as your... I don't know what I just witnessed. Just not me, OK?'_

_'Right. Of course.' John swallowed. 'I just... I'm sorry.' He covered his face with his hands and sighed loudly. What the hell had he been thinking?_

_Sherlock stepped closer and smiled gently. 'Because if anyone found out about your dreams about me, at least those types of dreams, they would not hesitate to kill me.'_

_'Just because I dream about it doesn't mean my feelings about it are real,' John huffed. 'And I thought you couldn't kill an angel?'_

_'It doesn't matter if your feelings are real or not. If you're dreaming about it then it implies something. I could get into serious trouble. They'd ground me. I would never be able to fly again! I'd be ridiculed. I'd be killed. Grounded angels can die.'_

_'Well, I'll put a lid on my erotic dreams shall I?' John looked up at Sherlock and sighed. 'I'm sorry. I don't want you to get grounded.'_

_'It's OK. I realise it's hard for you. I would appreciate it though.'_

_'Yeah. OK. I'll try. So... Do you wanna go flying? Or do you wanna talk? I did some research on angels before bed. Huh. Maybe that's why it was you this time instead of... Never mind.'_

_Sherlock raised an eyebrow but didn't question John. 'I would quite like just to talk, if that is OK.'_

_'OK. Yeah. Let's talk.' John changed his dream slightly to include a plush bed, one large enough to fit two people on it comfortably._

_'Don't look at me like that,' he said to Sherlock's slightly horrified expression. 'Every deep conversation I've had took place on a bed. All we're going to do is sit and talk. I promise.'_

_'If you say so,' Sherlock said, not entirely trusting John after all he had seen. He cautiously approached the bad and lay down on it._

_'You sit, silly.' John laughed and sat on the bed beside Sherlock and crossed his legs, placing his hands on his ankles._

_Sherlock sat up. 'I knew that. So erm... what do you want to discuss?'_

_'I don't know.' John shrugged. 'Um... Wow. There's so much I want to ask and yet I don't know what to start with. Well, if you're up for sharing, what do angels eat? Oh, and how have your injuries been healing? Not like physically how, I just want to know how you're progressing.'_

_'In Heaven we have no need to eat anything. Down here, evidently from my fall, we do. Though I don't have a big appetite. I'm not entirely sure how you can eat so much and so quickly without feeling a little ill. And my injuries aren't too bad now. They're healing nicely.'_

_'Good to hear you're healing nicely.' John smiled softly. 'I still feel awful about what I did. I'm not even sure why I did it. It was very out of character for me. I'm so sorry._

_'As for the eating thing, human teenagers are known for their large appetites. It's almost like we have a bottomless pit for a stomach. We need to eat more because our bodies are growing and changing and we need the nutrients to sustain the growth.'_

_'Hmm. As long as you know that eating so much and so fast, no matter what your age, is not terribly good for you.' Sherlock sniffed and pulled a face of repulsion. 'And it's fine, about what happend with the tree. I touched a raw nerve. I get that.'_

_'I still feel bad about it though.' John frowned but shook it away. 'Have you got a question for me? Maybe we could take turns asking instead of one of us dominating the conversation.'_

_'OK. Hmm. How can I make you happy? As an angel I have the power to change anything about your life. Anything. So... what can I do for you?'_

_'Anything? Like, changing personalities or habits? What are your limitations?'_

_'Oh honey, I have no limitations.' Sherlock winked playfully._

_'Well, I'd appreciate it if you could help my sister. She's gotten into a lot of bad stuff lately, mostly alcohol, and she's become irritable and cross because of it. And... my father. He... he hits my mum. A lot. I'm sure your angel vision could see past the makeup she wears to cover up the bruises. Fix his anger issues and my sister's addictions. That's all I ask. Well, and maybe deal with my bullies for me. Like, scare them off like you did with my father and sister earlier. That'd be a sight to see.'_

_Sherlock listened carefully and nodded. 'I can do all of that.' He leant forward and kissed John lightly on the forehead. John froze and tensed all his muscles at Sherlock's touch._

_'OK. Yeah. Good. Um... Let's talk boundaries really quick. So that, the kiss? Don't do that unless you want a repeat of that dream you walked in on. All your little intimate touches aren't helping.'_

_'I apologise.' Sherlock looked away. 'It was merely me sealing my promise to you. I shall refrain from doing such a thing in the future.'_

_'Well, if it's an angel ritual thing then by all means, go ahead. But let me know that's what you're doing, OK? Cuz if you do that in front of my father he may have his doubts about us just being in a platonic angel-human relationship.'_

_'OK. But I still say that he is powerless to do anything. If he wasn't scared of me and my brother before, he is now.'_

_'Yes, I realise that. I know he won't say anything about it but I'm sure he'll be thinking about the dynamics of our relationship and how deep our bond is.' John sat back slightly and rested his weight on his hands, spreading his legs out in front of him, his toes almost stretching to meet Sherlock's knees._

_'So, what about you? What boundaries do you want me to know about?'_

_'Don't touch my wings without permission. Definitely no erotic dreams. Don't pester me to eat.' Sherlock bumped his knees against John's feet and smiled. 'I think that's it.'_

_'Noted and understood.' John grinned, pushing his toes against Sherlock's kneecaps. 'I think we can go back to questions now. Um... Do you guys mirror the ages of those you guard? Because you look about eighteen and your brother looks about forty. Unless you guys were created that way.'_

_'We mirror those we are paired with. Though I am far from a teenager,' Sherlock replied. 'God. What do I even look like? I haven't seen my reflection yet.'_

_'If you don't know what you look like, how did you know you were the one I was dreaming about?' John asked skeptically._

_'The person you were dreaming about had wings, John,' Sherlock said, rolling his eyes. 'Who else could it have been?'_

_'Oh. Right. Yeah,' John said lamely._

_'So are you going to show me what I look like or not?'_

_'Oh. Right. Here.' John made a full-length mirror appear by the bed. 'Check yourself out.'_

_Sherlock let out a low whistle and waggled his eyebrows as he inspected his reflection._

_'Bloody hell. I'm gorgeous. Not bad for someone who's almost three thousand years old, huh?'_

_'Three_ _**thousand?** _ _' John gasped, his jaw dropping. 'Holy shit. That's... Wow. You look good for your age.'_

_'Mmm. Thank you. I know I do. My god. Is that a six pack? Fucking hell.'_

_'What?! When did you take your shirt off?! Did I do that?!'_

_'Nope. That was me. Awfully sorry. I'll put it back on. Sorry.'_

_'It's fine.' John blushed, trying not to watch as Sherlock buttoned his shirt back up. 'Just warn me next time you take your clothes off to inspect your vessel's body or whatnot. I don't exactly want to be around when you check out your bare lower half.'_

_'Already done that. Is it usual to be so large? Or is that something I should probably get checked out?'_

_'Um... How large?' John swallowed, blushing deeply._

_'From here to here.' Sherlock gestured from his wrist to just above his elbow. He shrugged. 'Maybe it's cuz I'm an angel. We probably all have larger cocks than humans.'_

_'I would hope that's the case,' John said, swallowing again. 'Because you have a thirty centimetre dick. That's quite an accomplishment for a human. The norm around here is between fifteen and eighteen.'_

_'I'm not mocking you. I really do have a large dick. Probably for show more than use, seeing as I can't get erections. Shame really. I've always wanted one.'_

_'I um... Well, since it's my dream I could... give you one if you wanted,' John stammered, blushing a deep crimson at his words._

_'It would be appreciated,' Sherlock said with a smirk._

_John couldn't help but stare at the large bulge he was causing to grow in Sherlock's trousers. It looked fucking huge and damn it all John was going to be having some great wanking material after this. Wait... No. He wasn't gay. Or a Winger. But he had to admit seeing an aroused Sherlock was pretty damn erotic._

_'Pheww... oh god. I feel strange. Oh... are my trousers supposed to be this tight?' Sherlock jerked his hips upward, trying to create a little friction. 'Fuck. John. Stop... stop. Too large. Too bloody large!'_

_John really wanted to ignore Sherlock and wait for him to burst through his trousers, maybe watch him wank that massive cock with both hands until he had his first orgasm ever, maybe wank alongside him... But then he remembered he wasn't gay nor a Winger and he made Sherlock's cock soften as well as his own. Though he was probably still achingly hard in his own bed at home._

_'Yeah, so,' John said, voice incredibly weak and small. 'No more of that if you want me to keep away from the erotic dreams.'_

_'Yes. Err... That was rather peculiar. Definitely no more of that.' Sherlock's lips parted and he let out a loud sigh, his cheeks turning a rosy color._

_John cleared his throat and slid from the bed. 'Just um... Just give me a minute. I need to clear my head.' He started walking barefoot through his meadow, the grass soft and squishy beneath his feet._

_Sherlock rolled from the bed. 'I'll be in my own dream if you need me!' he called softly. John clearly needed some space. 'Just call my name once you're done thinking. Just whatever you do don't cross into my dream!'_

_'What happens if I do?' John asked, but Sherlock was already gone. He sighed and began walking again, simply enjoying the feel of the grass beneath his feet and the warm sun on his face. He tried very hard not to think about what had just happened but his mind conjured up a completely debauched Sherlock begging for his help, begging for a release. John went red in the face and his pulse skyrocketed. He couldn't engage, couldn't do anything, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't whisk the image away. He finally gave in to temptation and helped his dream Sherlock wank, occasionally sucking on the head of his imaginary cock, until the figure came screaming. It disappeared shortly after and left John alone, on his knees, in his meadow._

_Fuck, he was gonna be in so much trouble._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it just kinda cuts off. I just wanted there to be a bit of a break before the *real* smut happened. And it will next chapter. Oh boy will it. I'm going to try to get that up by Thursday or Friday. Then the real adventure starts ;)
> 
> Until next time!
> 
> TSA + IB


	7. Something New

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I have a snow day today (more like an extreme wind chill day), so I decided to update. This is a bit of a short chapter, so I'll probably update again this weekend.
> 
> InvisibleBlade: Sherlock  
> Me: John
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: dark imprisonment images, nudity, big dicks, awkward erections, masturbation, hand jobs, blow jobs, SMUT

_Angel dreams weren't like human dreams. Human dreams were messy and full of hopes, aspirations, and fears. Humans were free in their dreams. Angels were far from free in theirs. Sherlock always found that humorous, considering angels weren't allowed freedom in their waking life._

_Angel dreams were akin to walking around in a cramped prison. They were dark, they smelt of pure sweat and fear, and they were burdened with every responsibility and hardship an angel had faced over its lifetime. Sherlock was three thousand years old. He'd been through a hell of a lot in Heaven to get his place on Earth. He had a lot of hardships resting on his shoulders._

_And now here Sherlock was in his true form, a blazing light glowing in the dark, trapped until John called for him._

_Until then, Sherlock merely sat in chains mulling over his past as it drowned him like poison._

**_...::-::..._ **

_John had finally calmed down and returned to the plush bed, sitting cross-legged on it. He waited for Sherlock to return but he didn't. John frowned. Wait... Hadn't Sherlock told him he had to do something before he could come back? What was it? What was it?_

_'Sherlock?' he asked softly. 'Can you come back now?'_

_Sherlock could hear a faint buzzing from close by but he felt so pressed down by the dark and the fear of his dream that he couldn't move from the shackles he was tied down with. He let out a high pitched wail of distress and his true form throbbed as it tried to escape the dark and back to John. But it wouldn't let him. He was well and truly stuck. He was terrified._

_'Sherlock?' John said when he saw his form flicker in front of him but then disappear. 'Sherlock?!'_

_Sherlock tugged and pulled and strained. Eventually he managed to pull free. He came tumbling out of the dark and into the light. He curled his vessel into a small ball on the ground and shook, sobbing loudly._

_'Sherlock!' John cried and rushed over to him. Gingerly he placed a hand on Sherlock's shoulder and turned him over, inspecting him for injuries._

_'Sherlock, what's wrong? Are you hurt?'_

_Sherlock shook his head and dragged John closer. 'N-o,' he choked out. 'Not hurt. I'm – I'm sorry. I wanna go. Gotta clear my mind.'_

_'Go? You mean wake up?' John asked, pulling Sherlock onto his lap and hugging him close._

_'Yes. I – I want to wake up. Please.'_

_'OK. Will you come visit me later after you've cleared your head?'_

_Sherlock nodded and hugged John tightly. 'Yes. I'll come and visit you.'_

_'OK. Go. I'll be here a little while longer anyway before I wake up. See ya later.'_

Sherlock vanished from the dream. He woke up drenched in sweat. He had to take a shower. Hmm. Maybe John wouldn't mind him using his bathroom.

Sherlock took a long walk through London to clear his troubled mind before entering the Watson household as quietly and secretively as possible. He padded into John's bathroom and stripped himself of all his sweaty clothes. He turned on the shower and stepped under its spray, humming as it took away his bad dream.

John spent a few more hours in his dream, which was probably another hour of sleep for himself. He yawned as he woke up and rolled over, his arm flopping over the side of his bed and his face smashed into his pillow. His still waking mind registered that there was water running. Maybe his mum was already up and making tea. No. It was closer than that. He blinked an eye open and looked toward his bathroom. The light was on, shining under the door, and the shower was indeed running. Damn it. Harry had probably gone out last night and entered his room instead of here again.

John groaned loudly and crawled out of bed, putting on a clean pair of pants before he entered his bathroom and wrenched open the curtain.

'Harry! Get the–' But it wasn't Harry. It wasn't even a drunk friend she'd brought home and had passed out in the shower. No. This was a very naked, very wet Sherlock and... Oh my god. His cock really  _was_  fucking huge! And it looked so much better than the image his mind had conjured up in his dream. Sherlock squawked and his wings twitched angrily, as though threatening to go into flight mode.

'John!' He looked around for something to cover himself up with but in his panic he couldn't find anything. 'Err... just get out! Get out now! Bloody close that jaw of yours and go!'

John blinked and snapped his jaw shut, closing the curtain roughly. He left without saying a word and flopped back on his bed. He was hard again. God dammit. Did he risk wanking with Sherlock just in the other room? Apparently yes because his hand was down his pants and was stroking himself before he knew it.

Sherlock heard the moans, naturally. Angels had sharp and crystal clear hearing. It was rather unfortunate in this case seeing as it was his name being moaned out. Then something strange happened. His cock perked up and hardened. It was now incredibly thick and heavy. This wasn't right. Angels didn't get erections. Oh god. John's dream. John had dreamt him having an erection. What if that had somehow awoken a libido that he hadn't even been aware of?

He clambered out of the shower and shook himself dry like a dog, tiny drops of water flying everywhere. He didn't bother with a towel, simply hobbling out naked into John's room, a fierce blush rushing down his body.

'John,' his voice surprisingly cracked. 'I – are you sure you're not gay? Because–' Sherlock swallowed thickly. 'I need your help.'

'Eeep! Sherlock! What– Oh my god.' When he caught sight of Sherlock's massive erection he just about came. But he held it off and managed to peel his eyes away to look at Sherlock's face. He was flushed, his pupils blown from arousal, and he was breathing a lot quicker than normal.

'I... I don't know. Maybe I'm bisexual, but I really don't know. What... um... what do you need me to do?'

Sherlock just looked exasperated at John. 'First time in a vessel, remember? I don't know what to do with... this.' He gently stroked his cock and bit back a loud groan.

'Do you just want to... do what I'm doing?' John swallowed thickly and watched Sherlock's cock twitch and bob between his legs. Fucking hell it was gorgeous.

Sherlock stepped closer to John. 'I would, but you seem like such an expert. Can't you do it for me? I won't tell anyone. I'm an angel. There are consequences for me. So I'm not going to blab my mouth off. I really need your help.'

'Are you sure I'm allowed? I don't want to get you in trouble.'

'They wouldn't have to know,' Sherlock whispered softly. 'Please?'

'Um... OK,' John agreed hesitantly. 'Why don't you lay back? It'll be easier for both of us.'

Sherlock crawled onto the bed and lay back. 'Like this?' he panted.

'Yeah. Good,' John breathed out softly. 'Really fucking good. Damn.' He moved over to Sherlock and licked his palm, coating it thoroughly before grasping Sherlock's rock hard and enormous prick.

'Jesus Christ,' John moaned as Sherlock gasped softly. 'Fuck. It's so warm.'

Sherlock whimpered and pushed his cock through John's fist. 'Oh god. This feels...' He jerked his hips upward. 'Wonderful. Why haven't I tried this before?'

'I don't know,' John whispered, watching everything that Sherlock did. From the canting of his hips to the parting of his mouth to the way his hands grasped his bed sheets. Fucking hell he was going to enjoy this.

He began moving his hand up and down Sherlock's impressive length, squeezing a little harder as he got a steady rhythm going. He was tempted, oh so tempted to lick the little beads of precum off the head but he just used them as lubrication instead. He didn't want to go much further than a handjob if he could help it.

Sherlock's wings stretched out in excitement and stroked John's face appreciatively. He closed his eyes and moved his hips a little faster, letting the pleasure running through him slowly encompass him. John leaned into Sherlock's feathered touch and moaned softly, working his hand faster. The wing was pushing him down, pushing him closer to... Oh. Oh good lord.

Sherlock's prick was right there, right in front of his face, so close he could feel the heat coming off it and smell his natural scent. He wanted to know what he tasted like, so fucking bad. He poked his tongue out and softly licked the underside of Sherlock's cock just below his head. John moaned loudly. Fuck, Sherlock tasted good. Sherlock's eyes snapped open and he gasped loudly. He moved so his cock was pushing against John's mouth.

'Do that again.'

John didn't even think. He simply took Sherlock into his mouth as much as he dared and began sucking loudly, continuing to wank the rest of Sherlock's shaft. Sherlock's eyes slipped shut again. He let John take full control. He obviously knew what he was doing. Sherlock occasionaly stroked John tenderly with his wings to show how much he was enjoying everything. John hummed softly and hollowed his cheeks like he'd seen the people do in the pornos he watched. He began bobbing his head and managed to take a little more of Sherlock in, continuing to wank the length he couldn't swallow.

Sherlock felt his body tense and suddenly he found himself dragged over the edge as an orgasm shuddered through him. John spluttered and pulled off Sherlock's cock, watching in amazement as he spurt thick globs of cum all over his stomach and chest.

'Thank you,' Sherlock breathed out softly, turning around and cuddling up to John, wrapping his wings around him in a tight embrace.

'Um... You're welcome,' John swallowed, tasting some of Sherlock's seed on his tongue. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't good either. Holy shit. He'd just given his first blow job to an angel. A goddamn angel. He was so going to Hell.

'Mmm. Sleepy now,' Sherlock whispered. 'Can I sleep here, with you?'

'I... I suppose. Yes.' John looked at the clock. It was almost nine. He hadn't been asleep long at all. Only a few hours. He could use some more sleep before he was really awake.

'Could you put some pants and a t-shirt on or something though? I'd rather not sleep with a naked angel. Sorry.'

Sherlock answered back with a loud and undignified snore, his wings gripping John tighter. John sighed and shrugged. Whatever. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. And Sherlock's wings were really warm. They wouldn't even need blankets. He hummed and nuzzled against Sherlock's chest, listening to the angel's heartbeat as he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And herein begins the smut! I know you guys have been waiting for it, so here it is! There will be plenty more next chapter as well, so you have that to look forward to ;)
> 
> Also, today is InvisibleBlade's birthday, so if you wanted to go to her tumblr (moriartysinvisibleblade) to send her some birthday wishes that would be awesome :)
> 
> So yes. Next chapter has plenty more smut and a teensy bit of angst. We'll see you there!
> 
> TSA + IB


	8. Experimentation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Happy Tuesday! While I had the time I thought I'd update this. Then it's back to regular fiction writing instead of fanfiction.
> 
> InvisibleBlade: Sherlock  
> Me: John, Harry, Mrs Watson, Mr Watson
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: blow jobs, mind/memory manipulation, secret hand jobs in public, personality manipulation, vomiting, angst

_'I apologise for what just happened,' Sherlock said quietly as he entered John's dream._

_'Me too,' John blushed, sitting cross-legged in the grass. 'I never meant for it to go that far. I... That was the first sexual thing I've ever done with someone else. Other than in dreams of course, but those don't count.'_

_Sherlock sat next to John and gently rested his head against his shoulder. 'You're something quite remarkable to affect me like you do, John Hamish Watson.'_

_'Thanks, I think,' John laughed softly. 'I just don't want anyone to find out. I'd hate for you to get grounded.'_

_'Then they don't have to find out,' Sherlock said gently, nuzzling at John's neck._

_John moaned softly and arched his neck back. 'Are we... Are we gonna start one of those secret sexual experiment things?'_

_'Interested?' Sherlock asked softly, kissing John's neck. He knew it was wrong, illegal even. But then, why did it feel so right? Why did John make him feel this way? John moaned again and nodded, spreading his legs slightly to accommodate his growing erection. He knew if they were ever found out Sherlock would be grounded and possibly killed. As for himself? He didn't know. His family would disown him, he'd be labeled as a gay Winger for the rest of his life, and his entire future would be thrown away._

_But he didn't care. He cared about Sherlock, he was an excellent angel, his excellent angel, and he knew they could end the experimentation whenever they wanted. So he agreed and he found his lips on Sherlock's in a soft yet awkward first kiss._

_Sherlock froze as John kissed him tenderly. It felt nice to be kissed. His wings flapped in excitement as his heartrate skyrocketed. John hummed softly and pulled Sherlock a little closer, the angel's wings ruffling his hair. He slowly reached up and cupped Sherlock's face in his hands, stroking his thumbs over Sherlock's cheeks. Sherlock moved so he was straddling John's lap and finally broke the kiss._

_'Wow,' he breathed. 'Just... wow.'_

_'That was... nice,' John said softly, holding Sherlock close. 'I can't wait to try it in real life. When we're both awake.'_

_'Mmm. Me too,' Sherlock hummed, chewing on his lower lip nervously. 'There are other things we can try out whilst we're here, you know.' He rocked on John's lap and went back to kissing him._

_'I–' John started but Sherlock was already kissing him. He instantly melted at the tenderness and growled, actually growled, when it became heated and almost passionate. He rocked against Sherlock on his lap and moaned into the kiss, poking his tongue out and prodding at Sherlock's lips._

_'Shall we take this to bed?' Sherlock purred loudly._

_'I-I'm not ready to go that far.' John blushed deeply and looked away. 'Even in my... other dreams... I've never gone that far. I... I'm not ready.'_

_'OK,' Sherlock nodded. 'I understand. I'm fearful of it too.' He went back to kissing John and rocking on his lap._

_'We – uh! – we can – fuck! – would you suck me off? Like I did you? Could you try?'_

_'Mmm. I can try. I still think we need a bed in that case. Just to make things a little more comfortable.'_

_'Yes. Bed. OK,' John panted, placing them on a plush bed, already naked. John spread his legs wide as Sherlock knelt between them, quivering from nerves and anticipation. Sherlock leaned in and hummed, lapping at the head of John's cock nervously._

_'Oh Sherlock,' John moaned, rocking up a little. 'Oh, that's good. That's really good. Mmm.'_

_Encouraged, Sherlock lapped faster before swallowing John's cock in one swift motion. John cried out and grasped the bed sheets tightly, trying his damnedest not to thrust into Sherlock's mouth lest he hurt him. Sherlock began bobbing his head frantically, hollowing out his cheeks and slurping greedily at John's member. John whimpered and took big gasping breaths as Sherlock pleasured him. He wasn't gonna last long at this rate._

_'Sherlock... Gonna cum,' he gasped out in warning. Sherlock growled and hollowed his cheeks, his wings moving to brush past John's bollocks. John gasped sharply and thrust his hips up, the touch sending him over the edge with a harsh cry of Sherlock's name. Sherlock swallowed all John gave and released him. He licked his lips, frowning slightly. He couldn't decide whether he liked the taste of it or not. John collapsed against the bed, panting like he'd just run a marathon. Holy fuck. Holy fuck that was amazing. And had Sherlock really swallowed all that?_

_'You didn't... didn't have to swallow,' he panted, turning to see Sherlock mulling something over. 'I would've been fine if ya... if ya spit or just let me cum all over myself.'_

_'It was the most logical thing to do.' Sherlock shrugged and climbed up John, resting his head on his chest and humming. 'The turn of events between us certainly are peculiar, considering we both hated each other at the beginning.'_

_'Yes. Quite strange and unexpected. Though I think it's mostly because I feel guilty about making you fly into that tree. Maybe this is my idea of an apology? A rather erotic and illegal apology too.'_

_'It doesn't matter either way. All I know is this is the happiest I've felt in a long time. I really needed this.'_

_'Yeah. I'm feeling pretty damn happy too,' John smiled goofily. He hummed and closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around Sherlock in a tender hug._

_'You know, we should wake up,' Sherlock sighed softly. He didn't want to leave. Not just yet. 'I'm naked in your bed. God forbid if someone walked in on that.'_

_'Yeah, I know,' John hummed, smoothing a hand through Sherlock's hair. 'And we will. Soon. Just not right now.'_

_'Mmm. What are you doing tomorrow? I was thinking I could finally test out my wings.' His wings fluttered excitably and he smiled against John's chest._

_'Tomorrow?' John poked around in his head. 'Tomorrow is Sunday, so I have to go to church with my family in the morning. Then we have lunch with my aunt after church. And usually after that we come home and do whatever. So, anytime after lunch I'm free. And then Monday I have to go to school. Winter Holiday is over tomorrow basically.'_

_'You could go to church,' Sherlock smirked, 'which I know you don't really want to go to. Or you could be with me completing an angel ritual. Which would you rather be doing, hmmm?'_

_'An angel ritual?' John opened his eyes and looked down at Sherlock. 'Hell yeah I want to help you do that! My mum will let me skip church for that no problem!'_

_Sherlock chuckled darkly and kissed John tenderly on the lips. 'I thought you would. You're not squeamish are you? It involves a little blood.'_

_'Nope. Not squeamish. I'm gonna be a doctor. It would be a terrible career choice if I was squeamish. What's the ritual, if I may–'_

John was ripped from the dream when his sister wrenched him out of bed, slapping him across the face until he woke up.

'What the bloody hell is wrong with you?!' she hissed, holding him up close to her face. 'I come to get you up for lunch and I find you in bed with your angel! Your  _naked_  angel, mind you. What the fuck is going on here?! Are you a Winger? A  _gay_  Winger?'

John opened his mouth to speak but found he had no words. Thankfully, Sherlock did. Sherlock stood to his feet, pulled John out of his sister's grip, and grabbed Harriet firmly. He leaned forwards and hissed down her ear in the ancient language of his people. He watched in satisfaction as she crumbled to the ground with an audible thud.

'She won't remember a thing,' Sherlock said, sounding smug. 'Now, may I have some clothes before anyone else raises suspicion?'

'Right. Clothes. Yeah.' John rushed into his bathroom and scooped up Sherlock's clothes from the floor. He went back and stepped over his sister, giving Sherlock his clothes. Sherlock thanked John and quickly got dressed. Harry stirred and sat up, holding her head. She looked up at Sherlock, fully dressed, and her brother, getting dressed.

'Oh, good, you're up,' she said, standing and wobbling slightly. 'And your angel's here too. Mum sent me up to get you ready for lunch seeing as you slept through breakfast. And I suppose your angel is welcome to join us if he wants.'

'Thank you, Harriet.' Sherlock watched as she left and breathed out in relief. He quickly pounced on John, shoving him against a wall and smothering his lips with his own. John moaned loudly and wrapped his legs around Sherlock's waist, his hands tangling in his hair. He devoured Sherlock's lips, nipping at them and flicking his tongue out to taste them.

'Morning.' Sherlock pulled away as quickly as he had pounced John, smiling broadly.

'Morning,' John replied breathlessly, smiling goofily.

'Come on. Breakfast.' Sherlock smirked and began walking to the kitchen, John trailing after him.

'Lunch,' John corrected him, still smiling like an idiot. 'Think you've worked up an appetite after all we did?'

'I believe I have, yes,' Sherlock laughed lightly.

'Good,' John laughed. 'Me too.' He went into the kitchen and kissed his mum on the cheek.

'Sorry for missing breakfast,' he apologised. 'I was up late researching angels.'

'It's fine dear,' she smiled, kissing his cheek in return. 'Oh. And Sherlock's here too. How are your wings, dear?'

Sherlock smiled chirpily. 'They are far better today, Mrs Watson. I was thinking of going out for a fly later, if the weather of London so allows.'

'Oh good,' she smiled brightly. 'Glad to hear it. Will you be having lunch with us today?'

'Yes, Mrs Watson,' he smiled hugely. 'I'm in a good mood today so I'll be eating more than my usual intake.'

'Oh? Well, good,' she smiled softly. 'Jonathan, why don't you set the table? Harriet, is your father still watching TV?'

'Yes, Mum,' both kids answered. John set to work setting the table for lunch while Harry set about trying to pry their father away from the TV.

'You're super good looking from this angle,' Sherlock whispered behind John.

'Thanks,' John blushed, wiggling his arse a bit.

'Come to think of it. You're super good looking from all angles,' Sherlock mused.

'Even better,' John purred softly. 'You are too. Super good looking. Gorgeous even. Damn. Maybe I am gay.'

'You gave me a blow job and you're questioning your sexuality?' Sherlock hissed sarcastically.

'Of course I am,' John hissed back. 'What if this is just a phase? Humans go through them all the time.'  
'A phase?' Sherlock spluttered. 'A bloody phase?' He sat down at the kitchen table with a loud huff. John sighed and sat down the plates he'd been carrying. He moved over to Sherlock and kissed his cheek gently.  
'I'm sorry,' he whispered. 'I've just never done this before and I'm scared. I'm scared of both of us getting hurt, scared of getting caught, and scared of getting you grounded. I'm sorry. Seems I'm trying to push you away already.'

'It's OK,' Sherlock smiled weakly. 'I'm scared of all those things too. I just... I really like you.'

'Oh. Well, I suppose I really like you too,' John said softly. 'And I'd like to kiss you again. Just not here. After lunch. We can go out and you can fly and we can find somewhere private to snog.'

'Mmm. That sounds nice,' Sherlock smiled softly. 'Then the angel ritual I tried to tell you about.'

'Right. We'll be doing that tomorrow. What's the ritual?'

'We exchange blood. No big deal really.'

'For, like, a bonding ritual thing?'

'Yes, a bonding ritual thing,' Sherlock smiled softly.

'OK. No problem then. You can explain it fully later. It's time for lunch now.' He finished setting the table just as his father trudged into the room and sat at the head of the table.

'Ah, Mr Holmes,' he said when he saw Sherlock sitting at the table. 'Come to join us I see. Did your meeting with your brother go well?'

'Yes. Quite well, thank you. He was just giving me a briefing on my duty to John.' Sherlock tensed slightly and forced a smile across his face.

'Ah. I see. Giving you instructions on how to properly guard your human. How long has he been guarding his human now? Going on twenty years now hasn't it?'

'I believe so, yes. He's the guardian of Gregory Lestrade, a D.I at Scotland Yard.'

'Ah. Well, good for him. I've heard good things about that Lestrade fellow. A good detective.'

'OK everyone,' Mrs Watson smiled, bringing a large pot of soup out and setting it in the middle of the table. 'Soup's on. Oh, and the bread too.' She dashed back and grabbed the bread, placing it next to her husband.

'Scott, would you say grace, please?' Mr Holmes nodded and held his hands out for John and Harry to take. Harry clasped his and took her mum's hand, John taking Sherlock's, everyone bowing their heads. Mrs Watson held a hand out for Sherlock and smiled gently. Sherlock gently took Mrs Watson's hand and bowed his head out of respect. Mr Watson began saying a typical prayer. John wasn't really paying attention. He was focusing on the warmth of Sherlock's hand and how it sent sparks flying through his body. He squeezed it gently and smiled when Sherlock squeezed back. He managed to say 'Amen' at least when the prayer was finished and everyone started dishing up the soup.

Sherlock let his hands fall back into place. One snaked down and squeezed John's thigh. John grinned and slowly moved Sherlock's hand up until it cupped his hardening cock, rocking against it subtly. Thankfully the tablecloth covered it, otherwise John never would have risked it. Sherlock ate two bowls of soup, something he probably shouldn't have done as he wasn't used to eating so much and was now a little green around the gills. The only consolation was that he was groping John roughly under the table.

John managed to eat a whole bowl of soup without exposing what Sherlock was doing to him. He was touching him enough to keep him erect but not enough to make him cum. But Sherlock accidentally squeezed him a little too hard and John let out a small gasp, grasping Sherlock's wrist so he would let go. Mr Watson turned his sharp gaze to John, noting how flushed he looked. He flared his nostrils and glared at the boy.

'What are you doing, Jonathan?' he asked, growling.

'Nothing, sir,' John swallowed. 'Soup was a bit too hot is all.'

'But you ate all your soup. What are you–' He glanced at John's hands shoved beneath the tablecloth. 'Are you touching yourself at the table?!'

'No, sir! No! I would never–'

'I will not tolerate my boy tainting our eating place with such a filthy action!' he roared, standing up and advancing toward John. 'I won't tolerate it!' He raised his hand to strike John and the boy cowered in his seat, bracing for the hit. Sherlock, seeing what was about to happen, stood to his feet and grabbed Mr Watson's hand in a death grip.

'You will not hit John. You will not hit anyone ever again. Is that understood?'

Mr Watson growled at Sherlock before his face fell compliant, his gaze softening.

'Of course. Yes. Of course,' he nodded slowly. Mrs Watson watched in shock as her husband lowered his arm and sat back down as if nothing had ever happened. She looked to Sherlock, surprise, confusion, and relief swimming in her eyes.

'Sherlock, dear, did you... What did you do?' she asked softly.

'I believe I made an order and Mr Watson complied, miss,' Sherlock grinned.

'So... no more beatings?' she asked, lowering her hands away from her mouth.

'No. I do believe he's learnt his lesson. Haven't you, sir?'

'Yes. No more hitting,' Mr Watson nodded.

'Thank you,' Mrs Watson breathed out in relief. John squeezed Sherlock's hand and mouthed, 'Harry.'

Sherlock nodded and mouthed, 'Later.' He wasn't going to mention how much it drained an angel to change something so large about a person's personality. Feeling weak and suffering from a belly ache from eating far too much for his small stomach, Sherlock stood to his feet.

'I apologise. May I leave the table?'

'Yes, of course,' Mrs Watson said, waving him off. 'We'll be here.'

'Sherlock,' John whispered, still clutching his hand. 'Are you OK? Can I come with you?'

'It's fine, John,' Sherlock faked a smile. 'Eat. I know you're hungry.' He turned around and fled for John's room.

John watched Sherlock run upstairs, frowning. He knew there was something going on with Sherlock. He just hoped he wasn't ill. He sat back down and ate another bowl of soup, the family having a peaceful meal for the first time in, well, ever.

Sherlock found himself by John's toilet, throwing up violently into it. Yup. Food was disgusting. He flushed the loo and hobbled out to John's bed, collapsing onto it with sheer exhaustion and falling into his nightmare of a dream world, hoping dearly John wouldn't come looking for him.

They all heard the loo flush but no one dared mention it. They finished their meal and John and Harry cleared the table. Mr Watson plopped in front of the TV again and fell asleep in the chair, Harry went to hang out with some friends, and John helped his mum do the dishes. He figured he would give Sherlock some time alone and recharge. He looked dead beat after fixing his father, and a bit green from eating all that food. Well, at least he'd know better for next time. He figured on giving Sherlock a couple hours rest before he woke him to go enjoy the cold January day, maybe get some flying in, and hopefully some snog time too. He hummed as he dried the last of the dishes and his mum joined in. When they finished John ventured upstairs to grab a book he would need to finish for school on Monday. Sherlock was passed out on his bed, his wings stretched out completely, dragging on the floor. John smiled and moved around them, not wanting to disturb Sherlock. He got his book and returned downstairs, sat on the sofa, and began to read.

Sherlock tossed and turned in his sleep, his dreams particularly troubling now. He clutched his belly, which still pained him greatly, and he mumbled in his sleep, begging for John. John finished his book and hour and a half later. Whether he retained any of what he read was up to his brain. He planned on skimming it again tomorrow. He waited another ten minutes before going back upstairs to check on Sherlock. But as he walked up the stairs he heard sounds of distress coming from his room. He rushed to his door and threw it open. Sherlock was tossing and turning on his bed, whimpering and calling out to John in his sleep. John dropped his book and rushed to Sherlock, gripping him tightly by the shoulders and shaking him.

'Sherlock! Sherlock, I'm here! Wake up! Wake up!'

'I can't! I can't get out! Not this time! I'm trapped!'

'Trapped? Trapped how? What can I do?'

'Nothing,' Sherlock whimpered weakly before falling silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock will be OK. He's just being a drama queen. Though he's kind of stuck in his nightmare, he'll escape with some help. So don't worry too much about him. He's going to be fine.
> 
> I'm not sure when I'm going to update again unfortunately. I've got a lot of "real" writing to do for school and reading to catch up on. It probably won't be until after my birthday (which is the 14th).
> 
> So, until we update again, bye!
> 
> TSA + IB


	9. First Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Seeing as I took a nap and I am feeling very refreshed and awake, I thought I would update this fic. And at some point I'll be posting a Valentine's Day Gift Exchange fic for the Johnlock Challenges Valentine's Day special. I just don't know when that's going to be. But sometime this weekend. Hopefully today. Fingers crossed :)
> 
> InvisibleBlade: Sherlock and Mycroft  
> Me: John
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: Sherlock is a bit weak, dark dream images (we go into Sherlock's head briefly), dream sex, anal sex, loss of virginity, accidental sleeping pill overdose (almost).

'Sherlock?! Sherlock! Wake up! Please wake up!' John cried, beating on Sherlock's chest and slapping him across the face. 'No! You can't do this to me! Please! You can't leave like this!'

A single tear teardrop fell from underneath Sherlock's eyelid and rolled down his cheek.

'Sherlock! Sherlock please,' John sobbed, burying his face in his angel's chest. He sobbed like a newborn baby, clutching onto Sherlock's shirt tight, his tears wetting the purple material. There had to be something he could do. Someone who could help. The brother? Yes!

'Mycroft!' he wailed. 'Mycroft, I need your help! Please!'

Mycroft heard the cries of his name and responded instantly, appearing in John Watson's room in an instant. His breath hitched at the sight of his baby brother.

'What have you done to him?!' he boomed loudly, his voice holding a clear accusation.

'N-n-nothing,' John hiccupped, turning to Mycroft with red rimmed eyes and tear stained cheeks. 'He fixed... fixed my father. No more beatings. Ate too much. Threw up. Passed out. Can't wake up. Please, Mycroft, help me.'

Mycroft sighed loudly. 'He is but a fledgling. He should not be doing such a rigorous task for his human. They are particularly draining for older angels. It takes a greater toll on younger angels. And I suppose he's trapped in his dream world now. This is far from good. I shall try my best to help him.' He walked closer to his brother and knelt by the bed, ignoring John.

'Hey, Locky,' he whispered. 'It's going to be OK. Just follow my voice. Wake up.'

John moved back and huddled in a corner, wrapping his hands around his knees as he watched Mycroft attempt to rouse his brother. He was shaking like a leaf. He'd need a shower after this. Or a brisk walk. Yeah. Maybe a walk. It might do Sherlock some good too to get some fresh air.

Sherlock could hear his brother's voice beckoning him to wake. He latched onto it and found himself pulled out of the dark. He opened his eyes and whined loudly.

'Mycroft?' he huffed, burying his head in the pillow beneath him. 'What the fuck are you doing here?'

'A pleasure to see you too, brother,' Mycroft sighed loudly, rolling his eyes.

John whimpered slightly from his corner but did not disturb the two brothers. The wrath of an angel, especially an angel like Mycroft, was not something he wanted to face at the moment.

'Go away!' Sherlock growled. 'My head's killing me.'

'Hardly surprising, really, considering what you just did. What were you thinking? You could have gone into a coma!' Mycroft scolded Sherlock, sending a glare in John's direction.

'I knew what I was doing!'

'Clearly,' Mycroft snorted. 'Says the headache that will probably only worsen in days to come.'

'I am more than capable of handling my powers, Mycroft. Now leave.'

'Very well, Sherlock. Do take care. Please ensure that you don't do anything too strenuous for your human for a good long while.' And with that he was gone in a flash of light.

John finally ventured over to Sherlock, crawling on his hands and knees. He shut his bedroom door and locked it, giving them some privacy. He sat on his knees by his bed and peered up at Sherlock, checking him over for any injuries. Habit by now seeing as he was going to be a doctor.

'Are you OK?' he asked in an incredibly small voice.

'I feel like my head's been put through a blender,' Sherlock mumbled. 'Now shhh. If you want to be helpful you can cuddle me.'

John nodded and crawled onto the bed, wrapping his arms around Sherlock in a tender hug, burying his face in Sherlock's shirt.

'I thought I lost you,' he whispered.

'Lost me?' Sherlock cracked open an eye, hugging John tightly. 'Never, John. You could never lose me.'

'G-g-good,' John stammered, clutching Sherlock tight. 'B-because I don't know what I w-would d-d-do without you after... y-you know.'

Sherlock opened the other eye and pulled John into a slightly sleepy kiss. 'Shhh. I'll always be here for you. That's never going to change.'

'Good,' John sniffled, wiping away his tears. He rested his head against Sherlock's chest listening to his heartbeat.

'Will you sleep with me?' Sherlock asked softly.

'Not sure I'm tired enough to sleep,' John sniffled.

'Please. I can't venture back into my dream world. You have no idea of how horrific that is.'

'Is there a way you could make me fall asleep? I'm not really all that tired.'

Sherlock shook his head and groaned. 'I'm completely drained of any power. It would only make me more ill. What about sleeping tablets?'

'My... my mum has prescription tablets. Knock her right out. I could sneak a couple. Can you stay awake long enough for me to go get them?'

'Yeah. That would be good. I'll stay awake for you. Just hurry.'

'OK.' He pecked Sherlock on the lips and dashed out of his room and to his parent's room. Thankfully they were both downstairs, probably having the first civil conversation since John was born, so he was able to sneak the pills no problem. He made it back to his room and locked the door behind him. Sherlock was barely awake, his eyelids drooping and his wings relaxing against the bed, drooping onto the floor. John took the pills and dry swallowed them, climbing into bed and cuddling up to Sherlock.

'Go to sleep, Sherlock. I'll be with you soon. Promise.'

Sherlock finally allowed his eyes to close fully, a sleepy smile spreading across his face. He curled his wings lazily around the blonde haired human and he fell into a sleep. An utterly peaceful sleep. The pills worked fast and soon John was sleeping too, joining Sherlock in a peaceful dream where they were laying on a plush bed in John's meadow, cuddling one another.

_'Thank you,' Sherlock whispered gratefully. 'It's nice here. So peaceful and free.'_

_'I have a feeling we'll be spending a lot of time here when I sleep,' John whispered, brushing a rogue curl off Sherlock's forehead. 'It's wide open and sunny and calm. I love it here. And I love spending time with you here too.'_

_'And it means I don't have to stay in my own dream,' Sherlock shuddered._

_'It's really bad in your dreams, isn't it?' John smoothed a hand over Sherlock's cheek. 'What makes it so horrible?'_

_'Want to see for yourself?' Sherlock swallowed._

_'I don't know,' John whispered. 'I don't think I want to. But... I don't know.'_

_'Please,' Sherlock whispered. 'I want you to see my dream. Otherwise I'll just be buzzing with sorrow.'_

_'I... OK. But, will you...' He grabbed Sherlock's hand and linked their fingers. 'Don't let go while I'm in your head. I don't want to get lost in it like you did.'_

_'I will never let go of your hand, ever, OK?'_

_'OK. Um...' He kissed Sherlock once more before pulling away. 'I just wanted to do that before we went. So, I'm ready when you are I suppose.'_

_'Grab hold of my hand nice and tight and stay close.' Sherlock entwined his fingers in John's as they fell into the darkness of his dream. John clutched Sherlock tight. He had to close his eyes as they crossed over into Sherlock's mind, a bright light nearly blinding him. But having his eyes closed just seemed to make it worse. Because he could hear things, awful things, screaming in agony. He whimpered and clutched Sherlock's hand tight, too scared to open his eyes to see where they were. But it felt dark, damp, and... A dungeon. They were in a dungeon. Sherlock really was a slave. John let out a small cry and buried his face in Sherlock's chest, not wanting to look._

_'Open up your eyes, John." Sherlock whispered. 'It's OK. You're safe with me.'_

_'We're in a dungeon,' he whispered. He opened his eyes and almost immediately shut them. 'And there are chains on the wall. Are they... yours?'_

_'Yes. I am never free, you see? Never.'_

_'But you're free in my mind,' John sniffled, clutching Sherlock's shirt tight with his free hand, clutching onto his other with a death grip. 'I... Can we go? Please? I don't like it here. I don't ever want to see you like this. Please.'_

_'Yes. We may leave. I ... John... make love with me when we return to the meadow. Please. I think I need such a ritual.'_

_'I – what?' John looked up at Sherlock, his face pale. 'I-I-I... What?'_

_'Make love with me, John,' Sherlock deadpanned._

_John swallowed thickly, his eyes wide with fear. 'I don't know what to do. I... I've never done it before. I... I'm scared, Sherlock. I don't think I'm ready to do that yet.'_

_'This is a dream,' Sherlock said, pulling them back into the meadow. 'You can stop any time you like. Just think of this as... practice.'_

_'Right. Dream. Right. Um... Right,' John stammered. He flopped back onto the bed and pulled Sherlock over him, swallowing audibly. 'Um... Hi,' he said lamely._

_Sherlock kissed John lightly. 'Hi,' he replied._

_'We'll just... take it slow, shall we?' John blushed, pulling Sherlock in for another kiss._

_'Slow,' Sherlock hummed in agreement, subtly rocking against John. John hummed and wrapped his arms around Sherlock in a tender hug, spreading his legs slightly so Sherlock fit between them easier. Sherlock was already impatiently hard and throbbing. He grabbed John's thighs and moved faster and harder._

_'I hope you're happy with yourself, waking up an angel's libido like this.'_

_'I – fuck – didn't know it was my fault,' John groaned, arching his neck back as Sherlock moved against him._

_'You gave me my first ever erection,' Sherlock grunted. 'This is all your fault.'_

_'Oh. Well, you're welcome.' John lazily trailed his hands down Sherlock's shirt, undoing the buttons as he made his way down. 'How do you even wear clothes with your wings? Have they all got slits in the back that they fit through?'_

_'Mmm. Yeah, must do,' he replied, not really listening as he began to bite into John's inviting looking neck. John moaned loudly and pushed his neck closer to Sherlock's teeth. He pushed his shirt off his shoulders and ran his hands down his toned chest, pausing slightly when Sherlock shuddered after he passed over his nipples._

_'Like that?' he groaned out, rocking against Sherlock._

_Sherlock groaned back and nodded. 'Y-es!' he exclaimed enthusiastically._

_John grinned and tweaked Sherlock's nipples with his fingers, laughing in delight when the angel gasped. Sherlock growled at John's laughter and sunk his teeth in deeper into his neck, tearing his top and trousers from him._

_'So, who's doing the taking?' John asked, working on taking off Sherlock's own trousers. He was surprised he was so calm. Well, it was only a dream after all._

_'May I do the honor?' Sherlock asked softly, lapping at the marks he made on John's neck._

_'Think your massive cock will fit up my arse?' John asked, slipping Sherlock's trousers off and tossing them aside. He grabbed a handful of Sherlock's arse and pulled him in close, their naked cocks sliding against one another._

_'This is a dream,' Sherlock gasped. 'Anything is possible. In fact, if you wanted, you could dream that you're already prepared so I can make love to you right now.'_

_'I... Prepared?' John swallowed. 'Prepared how? I've only ever watched straight or lesbian porn, never gay. How – What – I don't know what to do.'_

_Sherlock smiled in amusement. 'Luckily I've been around a good few thousand years. I've seen gay porn before. Good porn too.'_

_'How the hell does an angel know more about gay porn than me?' John sighed, covering his face with his hands. 'I feel like an idiot.'_

_'Boredom,' Sherlock grinned. 'Now shhh.' He sucked on his fingers liberally until they were coated with saliva. 'I'm going to make you feel good.'_

_'Uh... OK,' John swallowed thickly, his cheeks flushing for multiple reasons._

_'This is going to sting a little,' Sherlock warned, swirling a finger around John's entrance and carefully sliding it in._

_John gasped and squeezed around the intrusion, his hands grasping the sheets tight. 'Fuck.'_

_Sherlock pumped his finger frantically and curled it, finding John's prostate with ease and massaging it like a ball of dough. 'Fuck indeed.'_

_John gasped sharply and arched up, his body trembling from the touches._

_'Oh my god!' he cried. 'What is that? What are you doing?'_

_'_ _**That** _ _is your prostate,' Sherlock grinned._

_'My... My what? Oh god, don't stop. Feels... good but in a strange way. More, please.'_

_Sherlock moved his finger faster and pushed in a second finger, smiling widely. John continued to gasp and whimper and writhe on the bed, Sherlock's fingers doing something wonderful to him. His cock was leaking profusely on his stomach, a small puddle of precum by his belly button._

_'Sherlock! Please! Fuck me!' he cried._

_'How about no,' Sherlock smirked, adding a third finger. 'You're not wide enough.' He scissored John before going back to pumping in and out. John cried out as Sherlock stretched him more, his legs spreading as if that would help him open up more._

_'Sherlock! Please! How much wider do I need to be? Please! I'm begging you! Fuck me now!'_

_'Ready?' Sherlock smirked, replacing his cock where his fingers used to be, shoving it in roughly._

_'Ye– Fuck!' John cried. 'Slow! Go slow!' He pushed against Sherlock's abs to make him slow down._

_Sherlock groaned and forced himself to slow down, just slowly rocking against John's prostate. John gasped and moaned again, pulling Sherlock down for a searing kiss. He rocked against him, asking him to go a little faster. Sherlock sped up. Faster and faster until he just couldn't slow down._

_'Ah! Fuck! John!'_

_'Fuck me, Sherlock! Fuck me!' John cried out, clutching the sheets tight. 'Oh god. Harder! Fuck me harder! Pound that virgin arse!'_

_**Holy fuck I'm a dirty bastard.** _

_Sherlock smothered John's lips in his and swallowed the rest of his cries as he jerked his hips more violently. John whimpered, whined, and growled into Sherlock's mouth, parting his lips with his tongue and delving inside._

_'Mmm. Feels fantastic! Oh John! Are you going to cum? Grrr.'_

_'Touch my cock,' John begged, blissfully close to his release but he couldn't get there without being touched. 'Wank me, like you've seen me do. Please. I can't cum without it.'_

_Sherlock grabbed John's cock and began moving his hand along it fast and firmly._

_'Oh! Oh god! Don't stop! Fuck! Sherlock! Oh god! I – I'm cumming!' John cried as he began cumming thickly across his stomach and parts of Sherlock's chest._

_'Me too!' Sherlock roared, cumming powerfully into John's arse._

_John collapsed against the mattress, completely spent, his body twitching with aftershocks of pleasure as Sherlock continued to cum in his arse._

_'Wow,' Sherlock panted as he finished and pulled out. 'Bloody wow.'_

_'Bloody hell,' John panted, turning to look at Sherlock. 'That was... amazing.'_

_'That was bloody fabulous!' Sherlock cuddled up to John, still twitching from pleasure._

_'How much you wanna bet when we wake up we'll be covered in our own cum?' John giggled, cuddling up to Sherlock, pulling the blankets over them._

_'I'd bet that we're completely covered in the stuff. Wouldn't surprise me if we're naked either.'_

_'Well, my door's locked. No one should be coming in unannounced to check on us.' John pulled Sherlock in for a tender kiss. 'How long will you need to sleep for anyway to get your strength back?'_

_'I drained myself pretty badly. A good long while.'_

_'Like, the rest of the day? Because I'm gonna need to get up eventually.'_

_'How many tablets did you take? You may not have much control on how long you sleep.'_

_'Um... Two, I think. Maybe three. I really can't remember.'_

_Sherlock blinked at John in surprise. 'That doesn't sound like a healthy amount to take, John.'_

_'What? My mom always takes two. I'll be fine. I'm not gonna overdose or anything.'_

_'If you say so...'_

_'I'm not,' John reiterated. He pulled a face and rubbed at his chest. 'Though my chest feels a little tight. Is that normal?'_

_'No. Not normal at all.' Sherlock eyed John worriedly._

_'What are you looking at me like that for?' John asked, rubbing his hand over his chest. 'I'm fine. I am. I–' He suddenly spasmed and almost fell off the bed. 'I'm not OK!'_

_'John! John!? What do I do?!' Sherlock grabbed hold of John and held him tightly. 'I – I'm going to wake up. I'll get help! Maybe my powers have recharged.'_

_'Don't rush out naked!' John cried, grasping Sherlock tight. 'Get me dressed and get my mum! Please! Have her dial 999 if she has to! Don't strain yourself! Just– Gah! Get help!'_

Sherlock awoke, gasping for breath. He grabbed John, who was shaking violently, ignoring what he'd told him to do. Instead, he kissed John, transferring the ailment to him. He dropped down onto the floor, fitting and frothing at the mouth.

Sherlock's body burned off most things but one of the few things angels weren't allowed to take was sleeping tablets. And now, since John had taken them, they were in Sherlock's blood stream too.

Sherlock was in deep shit.

John gasped awake and clutched at his chest, his lungs heaving from his near overdose. And Sherlock– Bugger fuck! He was writhing on the floor foaming at the mouth.

'Sherlock, you idiot!' John cried, rushing to his side. 'Why did you do that? You should have just gotten my mum! What can I do to help you? I don't know shit about angels!'

'Hospital! Eh – fuck!'

'Right! Hospital!' John changed out of his soiled clothes and raced downstairs to dial 999. He explained the situation and they said an ambulance was ten minutes out.

'He might not have ten minutes!' John screamed into the receiver. He slammed it down and raced upstairs, completely ignoring his startled parents.

'Sherlock, the ambulance is ten minutes away. Can you survive that long?'

Sherlock shook his head. 'I'm – I'm sorry. This is all my fault.'

'I was the one who took the pills,' John sniffled. 'You were only trying to help me. Can you survive this? I thought angels just burned through human medication?'

'Not sleeping pills. They work too fast,' Sherlock choked out.

'So are... Are you gonna fall back into your nightmare?' John gulped. 'Do you need me to keep you awake?'

Sherlock nodded and wheezed loudly. 'Keep me awake.'

'OK,' John nodded. 'How do I do that?'

'Just keep talking to me...'

'Talking. Right. OK.' John swallowed and pulled Sherlock's head into his lap, propping his feet up on a pillow. 'What... um... What other kinds of rituals do angels have?'

'Human sacrifice.' Sherlock gave a weak chuckle. 'Joking, John, really.'

'You berk,' John laughed softly. 'But really though. What kinds of rituals or whatever do you do?'

'We're quite the party animals,' Sherlock said with a stuttered breath. 'Maybe I'll invite you to a party one day. You'll like it , I think – erh – fuck–'

'Think what? Think what?' John said, slapping Sherlock's cheek to rouse him.

'I – think – fuck – I dunno.' Sherlock closed his eyes and trembled against John.

'No! No! Sherlock! Eyes open!' John cried, pinching Sherlock to rouse him more. 'Don't fall asleep! Stay awake!' He glanced at the clock. 'Just five more minutes, Sherlock. Please!'

'Can't. John I... just... thank you... for everything.'

'No! You son of a bitch! No!' John cried, hauling Sherlock up and slapping him hard across the face. 'You aren't quitting on me! Stay awake!'

Sherlock's breathing had come to a standstill and his heart began to stop.  _It's too late for me_ , Sherlock thought sadly.  _Too bad, I really liked John._

John panicked and moved from under Sherlock, setting him down and moving to apply CPR. He linked his hands and pushed against Sherlock's chest fifteen times before plugging his nose and tilting his head back, opening his airway before blowing two large breaths into him. He repeated this until the ambulance arrived, the paramedics ushering him away and taking Sherlock to the hospital. John could only watch in shock, his mother hugging him from behind, and his father squeezing his shoulder gently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry. Sherlock will survive this too. I don't know why I always end on cliffhangers like this. Maybe I like torturing you all? Maybe... I blame InvisibleBlade. She likes to torture me by doing bad things to Sherlock, so I guess this is just me retaliating. Sorry.
> 
> If things go according to plan, I should update Tuesday. So you won't have to wait too long for a resolution. 
> 
> Until next time!
> 
> TSA + IB


	10. Hospital

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Happy Tuesday! Here is the resolution to last chapter's cliffhanger. This one doesn't have a massive cliffhanger, so you can breath out in relief. There's some smut to make up for the angst.
> 
> This is all Sherlock and John, no other characters.
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: mention of self harm, mention of bullying, smut, nipple play, anal sex, loss of virginity, flight sex, blow jobs.

Sherlock was aware of two things when he came to. One, he was in hospital and seriously ill. And two, John Watson was holding onto his hand and speaking to him softly.

'It's gonna be OK, Sherlock,' John whispered, smoothing his thumb over Sherlock's knuckles. 'They pumped your stomach and gave you some proper meds to help with your pain. They say you should be out by tomorrow.'

'It is now you're here,' Sherlock smiled weakly and squeezed John's hand lightly.

'Good to see you smile again,' John said weakly. 'You've been asleep since Saturday.'

'Damn. We missed our ritual,' Sherlock grumbled loudly.

'It's OK. We can do it next Sunday,' John muttered softly. 'It's only Tuesday now, so you'll have plenty of time to heal and gather your powers and strength.'

'You know, I had to do what I did. You wouldn't have survived. It was best that I took your place.' Sherlock reached John's hand up to his lips and kissed it gently.

'Keep the mushy stuff to a minimum while we're here,' John whispered, but he didn't pull his hand away from Sherlock's lips. 'I don't want us to get caught.'

'Mmm. You look exhausted. Wanna dream with me for a bit? I should be resting anyway. Mushy stuff and more can occur in there, right?'

'Right. I could do with a decent sleep anyway. School started yesterday... and so did the bullying again.'

'Bastards. What was it about this time?' Sherlock squeezed John's hand harder, feeling a wave of protectiveness for his human wash over him.

'You,' John sniffled, climbing up on the bed and resting along Sherlock's side. 'Harry's probably spread it around that I got my angel by nearly killing myself. And so all my bullies told me to try again because it didn't take. I... I wasn't going to leave you like that but... I cut myself more because of their words.'

'Oh, John. I'm sorry,' Sherlock sighed softly. 'I wish you wouldn't cut though. Where? Your wrists? Or your thighs? I'll make them all better.'

'Just my arms,' John sniffled. He pushed his sleeves up and presented his arms to Sherlock, more than a dozen fresh cuts littering each one.

'You're letting them win by getting to you.' Sherlock kissed each scar, humming in satisfaction as they faded one by one.

'What else am I supposed to do?' John sniffled, some stray tears falling down his cheek. 'Words can hurt just as much as physical things. Sometimes more so. And I can't exactly ignore them. I tried that once and they only started screaming at me. A few of them hit me. They just... they're persistent and rude and I hate them. I hate them so much.' He buried his face in Sherlock's chest and cried.

'Shhh. I'm here. I'll always be here for you. I'll teach those bullies a lesson they won't forget. They're probably just jealous that you're better than them. You  _are_  better than them. Just remember that.'

'Better how? I'm not any smarter than them. And they're bigger than me.'

'No. But you have a pure soul and a big heart. Something they are clearly lacking in.'

'Yeah. OK. Sure,' John sniffled, wiping at his nose. 'Can we go to sleep now? I'm beat.'

'Yes. Come on. Get nice and comfy.' Sherlock pulled John further onto himself and hugged him tightly, resting his head on John's shoulder. John wriggled slightly as he made himself comfortable, resting his head under Sherlock's chin. He hummed softly and nuzzled against Sherlock's chest.

'See ya soon, yeah?' he yawned, gripping Sherlock's hospital gown slightly, holding him close.

'Faster than you can believe,' Sherlock smiled, kissing John's forehead.

_John promptly passed out and was in his meadow, the sun warm on his skin. He breathed a huge sigh of relief and smiled softly up at the sky, laying back in the soft grass. Sherlock joined John a moment later, lying beside him and closing his eyes. It was so peaceful here. John grasped Sherlock's hand and linked their fingers, squeezing tight._

_'I've missed being here,' Sherlock whispered. 'Being locked up for days on end isn't fun.'_

_'I... I'm sorry,' John swallowed, squeezing Sherlock's hand tight again. 'I've missed having you here. And around in real life. I coulda used you yesterday and today.'_

_'I apologise. It's my fault. I should have been there for you. I have failed you.' Sherlock looked away from John in shame._

_'I'm still alive, aren't I?' John said, turning over to rest his head on Sherlock's chest. 'You haven't failed me. You were just recharging after absorbing that pill overdose from me. You'll be released tomorrow around lunchtime, so maybe you can come to my school and join me there. I assume you know where it is?'_

_'Yes, of course. We can fly there if you like.' Sherlock hummed and kissed John's neck._

_'I'll be in school, silly,' John laughed. 'You can fly there yourself and meet me out front.'_

_Sherlock pouted. 'Fine. I'll fly there all on my own.'_

_'Sorry, but my mum won't let me skip school to stay here. She's been here watching over you though while I've been at school.'_

_'Oh,' Sherlock said softly. 'Does she know what happened?'_

_'She knows that I took her pills to dream with you, yes. And that you woke up to save me from overdosing but made yourself sick in the process. Not sure if your brother's stopped by though. My mum hasn't mentioned him at all.'_

_'I highly doubt it,' Sherlock snorted. 'He's busy preventing world war three.'_

_'Oh. OK.' John sat up slightly and looked down at Sherlock, smiling softly._ _'Missed you.'_

_Sherlock grinned. 'Missed you too, John. I missed you a lot.'_

_John grinned again and kissed Sherlock softly, his fingers running through his hair. Sherlock clambered onto John and kissed him more forcefully._

_'Fuck me on the soft grass, Sherlock,' John moaned, spreading his knees and rocking up against his angel._

_'Can't you take me?' Sherlock asked. 'Please?'_

_'Hmmm. I suppose.' John grinned. 'What did it feel like? Having your cock inside me?'_

_'Good... err... very good,' Sherlock stammered, offering John a sly grin back._

_'Mmm. OK. I'll give you a try then shall I?' He started unbuttoning Sherlock's shirt and ran his hands down his chest, tweaking his nipples. Sherlock's breathing hitched and he moaned John's name loudly. John grinned and bent down to lap at a nipple, surprised that he actually enjoyed the feeling of it on his tongue. He hummed and began sucking on it, his hands slipping down to cup Sherlock's buttocks and squeeze. Sherlock shivered and groaned, pushing himself further into John's touch._

_John released the nipple he was sucking on to go suck on the other one. He loved the wonderful noises he was causing to come out of Sherlock, his cock hardening completely. More. He needed more. He imagined them both naked, Sherlock on his back, already prepped, spread open and wanton. Sherlock purred in appreciation, his wings twitching joyously as he writhed underneath John impatiently._

_'I, um... I'm gonna fuck you now,' John said nervously. He positioned his cock at Sherlock's hole and swallowed. Holy fuck. He was about to do this. Really about to. What the hell was he gonna do when they did it in real life? Would they do it in real life? The thought made John almost queasy. But he pushed forward and sheathed himself inside Sherlock in one swift push, gasping loudly as Sherlock's tight heat enveloped him._

_Sherlock groaned loudly. 'Oh god!' He moved his hands to grip John's hips tightly, leaving tiny bruises in their wake._

_'You – fuck – you're warm,' John groaned. 'I never expected it to be so warm. Mmm. Feels... good.'_

_'You're doing an awful lot of talking and not much fucking,' Sherlock grunted, squeezing around John's member._

_John gasped sharply and pulled out a bit, easing back inside slowly. Sherlock was still incredibly tight and it was a little hard to move._

_'You need to relax,' he moaned out, moving back out again. 'I can hardly move in here.'_

_Sherlock wriggled and whined but relaxed. 'Shag me already!'_

_John snapped his hips forward and drove his cock into Sherlock hard, gasping at the sensation. He pulled out and did it again, and again, and again, working into a steady rhythm, fucking Sherlock into the mattress._

_'Faster!' Sherlock gasped loudly. 'Oh god! Faster!'_

_John grasped Sherlock's hips and began pounding into him with no mercy, gasping and panting with exertion and pleasure._

_Sherlock cried out as he was brought to the beautiful edge. 'So close!'_

_'Touch yourself, Sherlock,' John grunted, close to the edge as well. 'I wanna see you touch yourself. Bring yourself off.'_

_Sherlock whined but complied, wrapping his hand around his member, moving it up and down with just the right amount of pressure._

_'I'll teach you how to do this in real life at some point,' John huffed, moving faster. 'That way you can take care of any erections that may crop up in my absence.' He gasped sharply and grit his teeth. 'Close. Gonna cum. You?'_

_'Yes! So close!' Even as Sherlock finished speaking his cum began to splatter out in thick globs._

_'Oh my god! Fuck! Fuck!' John cried as he began cumming as well, long and hard, his entire body trembling. Sherlock grabbed a fistful of John's hair and yanked him over to his nipple._

_'Suck – suck it,' he gasped, still cumming._

_John complied easily, sucking Sherlock's very tight and erect nipple into his mouth and sucking on it hard._

_'Mmm. God. Want another round?' Sherlock asked, wriggling back on John's member._

_John groaned and settled inside Sherlock, still fully hard even after cumming. He laid down on top of his angel and groaned again._

_'Still hard but too tired to move,' he complained._

_Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes. 'Fuck me, idiot!' He flipped their positions so he was riding John._

_'Oh!' John gasped, his hands flying to grip Sherlock's waist. 'Oh! This feels fantastic! Move! Please! Don't just sit there!'_

_Sherlock began to move teasingly slow, chuckling softly. John groaned loudly and closed his eyes, losing himself to the sensation. Sherlock moved a little faster and moved a hand down to cup John's balls. John gasped and thrust his hips up at the touch, his eyes flying open and looking down at where his cock disappeared inside Sherlock._

_'Do that again,' he gasped._

_Sherlock grinned and squeezed John's bollocks harder. 'Feels good, huh?'_

_'Y-yes!' John cried, moving harder and faster. 'More! Please!'_

_Sherlock squeezed harder and leaned in to suck on one of John's nipples. John cried out and arched into Sherlock's touches. There was so much sensation, too much, he was–_

_'Cumming!' he cried out as he emptied himself into Sherlock's arse again, his body shaking from overstimulation._

_'Me too!' Sherlock cried, cumming all over John's chest._

_'Fuck! Fuck! Too much! Get off! Please!' John cried, his cock overly sensitive from his two releases._

_Sherlock swiftly removed himself and apologised. 'Sorry.'_

_'It's... fine,' John panted, laying back in the grass. 'Just a bit overstimulated is all. Need to calm down.'_

_'Made you into a melted mess, hmm?'_

_'Oh yes.' John laughed softly, grinning up at his angel. 'A very sated mess.'_

_'Mmm. Good to know I can do that to you,' Sherlock purred._

_'Kinda excited to try it in real life,' John whispered, blushing._

_'Oh. Me too.' Sherlock smiled awkwardly._

_'Nervous too.' John swallowed, looking up at the clouds._

_'Same here,' Sherlock said softly._

_'Shall we get dressed and go fly perhaps?' John asked, sitting up already fully clothed and sporting his brown wings, the feathers fluttering in the breeze._

_Sherlock grinned, already dressed too. His wings twitched madly, begging for flight. John grinned and stood up, his legs slightly shaky from his two powerful releases. He held a hand out for Sherlock, grinning like a mad man. He was itching to fly and he knew Sherlock was too. He could see it written all over him, plain as day. Sherlock grabbed the offered hand and stood to his feet, his wings flapping wildly now._

_They took off simultaneously, still holding hands, and just flew up, up, up until they began to coast, only flapping their wings occasionally to stay in the air._

_'I love this,' John said, turning to Sherlock. 'It's so... freeing. I only wish I had wings in real life. But I suppose having them here is better than nothing.'_

_'You have me!' Sherlock exclaimed, suddenly turning to pounce on John, pinning him in a hug. 'Do you love me too?' he chuckled._

_'I... I suppose, in a way, I do,' John stammered. 'I just don't think I'm in love with you. There's a difference. I love you because you're my angel and because of what we're doing, but I don't love you romantically.'_

_'It's OK.' Sherlock bowed his head. 'I don't expect you to fall in love with me.'_

_'OK. Good. That's, um... good. Cuz I wouldn't want you to get grounded.'_

_'Too late for that. I'm shagging you.'_

_'Not in real life,' John pointed out. 'Just my dreams so far.'_

_'I'm a sentient being. This may be a dream, but I shagged you.'_

_'So I... I'm not a virgin anymore?' John gulped, flushing deep red._

_'Technically... no... you're not.'_

_'Oh my god,' John breathed out, his eyes glazing over as he looked at nothing. 'I... I lost my virginity to my angel. I am so going to Hell.'_

_Sherlock brushed a hand through John's blonde hair. 'No. You're not going to Hell,' he soothed softly. 'I initiated this. I'm the one in the wrong.'_

_'But I participated!' John countered. 'I let you... do that. I could have said no, but I didn't. I wanted it as much as– well, OK, maybe a little less than you but I still wanted it. Fuck! I'm a Winger. I'm a gay or bisexual Winger.'_

_'Titles, John. They're just titles. Do I make you happy? That's all that matters. Your happiness.'_

_'I... I am happy. Yes. Very happy.' He smiled gently and kissed Sherlock softly, humming against his lips._

_'Good.' Sherlock purred like the cat that got the cream and wrapped his legs around John tightly. 'Want flight sex?' He grinned like a maniac._

_'Oh, can we please?' John hummed, sucking a mark onto Sherlock's neck._

_'Oh, god yes!' Sherlock whimpered, spreading his wings out wide._

_John stripped them of their clothes, his mouth barely leaving Sherlock's pale neck. He bit it particularly hard and licked around the indents he'd made in Sherlock's flesh._

_'Who's doing the taking this time?' he asked, nibbling under Sherlock's jaw. 'Because I think it should be you. Your cock felt magnificent inside me last time. I'd like to feel it again.'_

_'Mmm. Yes. I'll take you. Are you going to prep yourself this time?' Sherlock smirked. 'Seeing as you so willingly prepped me.'_

_'I imagined you prepped and ready,' John said matter-of-factly. 'And I'll do the same for myself. So you can just go ahead and start fucking me.'_

_Sherlock grinned, lunging himself at John and pushing himself inside him. John groaned loudly and wrapped his legs around Sherlock's waist, squeezing tight. His arms were around his angel's shoulders, his fingers tangled in his curls. His wings flapped enough to keep him in flight but he wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to concentrate on flying with Sherlock's enormous prick inside him. Sherlock began to rock slowly, making love to John rather than simply fucking him._

_'You're beautiful,' he whispered in the blond's ear. 'Quite beautiful.'_

_'Beautiful?' John raised an eyebrow at the adjective. 'Really?'_

_'Mmm. So human. So soft. So fragile. Beautiful.'_

_'I'm not beautiful, Sherlock,' John mumbled softly, looking away from him. 'And I'm not this fragile little thing that could break in your grasp. I'm fairly resilient.'_

_'You're beautiful to me,' Sherlock hummed and rocked upwards. 'And you're more fragile than you like to think. My fragile, beautiful human.'_

_John didn't get a chance to reply. Sherlock was beginning to move in earnest, nudging his prostate occasionally, turning John into an incoherent mess._

_'Beautiful.' Sherlock nibbled John's neck as he made soft love to him. 'Beautiful and mine.'_

_John merely moaned in reply and captured Sherlock's lips with his own, parting them with his tongue and delving inside. It was wet and warm and oh so perfect. Sherlock kissed John slowly and began to speed up, his wings flapping frantically behind him in the gentle breeze._

_'So close. You?'_

_'Getting there, yes,' John groaned, his wings flapping faster. He reached down between them and grasped his cock, stroking it in the way he knew he liked and was immediately brought to the edge. He was crying Sherlock's name in seconds, spilling himself all over their stomachs. Sherlock clutched John tighter and flapped his wings harder to keep them both in the air, cumming inside of John._

_'Oh, John, you're perfect.'_

_'So are you,' John grinned, kissing under Sherlock's jaw. 'My perfect angel.'_

_'Mmm. You should wake up,' Sherlock moaned. 'If anyone catches us curled up together...'_

_'Yeah. I know,' John sighed. 'Don't want anyone spreading rumours or getting you in trouble. I'll see ya soon though?'_

_'Yeah. Seeya soon.' Sherlock kissed John softly before pulling away._

John smiled softly and began to wake up, his muscles sore from sleeping in such a weird position. He yawned and slid from the bed, standing up and stretching. It was then that he noticed the cold cum caked in his pants. He groaned loudly and moved to Sherlock's attached bathroom, throwing them in the bin and washing his hands. He ran them down his face to give it some colour and sighed. He checked his watch and sighed again. He needed to get home. His mum was probably worrying about him. He exited the bathroom and watched as Sherlock slowly began to rouse. Sherlock smiled gently at John as he awoke.

'I'll see you soon,' he reiterated. 'I'll take you flying and we'll complete that ritual of mine. Things are gonna get better for you John. I promise.'

'OK.' He smiled softly, moving back over to him and taking his hand. 'I need to go home. My mum's probably worried. I'll see you in my dream?'

'Yeah, OK. Hurry though. Not sure how much longer I can keep my eyes open for.'

'OK. See you soon.' He risked a kiss to Sherlock's knuckles and dashed from the room, running all the way home. When he got there he was good and properly exhausted. His mum had already gone to sleep but he scrawled a note for her to find in the morning. He went upstairs and changed into his pyjamas before climbing into bed. He set his alarm and promptly collapsed on his pillow, falling asleep in minutes.

_Sherlock arrived in John's dream with a gentle thud, his wings outstretched proudly. He grinned at the blonde haired boy and kissed him softly._

_'Hello you. I missed you. Missed me?'_

_John simply pulled Sherlock in for another kiss, his fingers tangling in his dark curls._

_'I'm taking that was a yes,' Sherlock said, smirking against John's lips._

_'Definitely yes.' John grinned. 'And... I also don't want to go to school tomorrow. I'm not looking forward to the bullies.'_

_'No one will dare bully you,' Sherlock said, his face determined. 'Look at me. I'm one scary ass angel.'_

_'You're a sexy angel. They'll take one look at you and cum in their pants,' John said with a giggle._

_Sherlock wriggled his eyebrows and purred loudly. 'I thought I only had that effect on you.'_

_'Don't underestimate your sexiness. I've seen my sister sneaking glances at you. And I know for a fact that she's a lesbian.'_

_Sherlock snorted. He wasn't sexy. Not in the least. He wasn't good looking. For a human he might very well be, but for an angel? There were far better looking and more powerful angels out there._

_'I honestly don't know what you see in me. I'm not even that good of an angel. I almost put you in hospital and I've ended up in hospital quite a few times too. And my vessel looks rather odd. Apart from the six pack I don't see a drop of sexiness.'_

_'Do you want me to tell you what I find sexy about you?' John purred, wrapping his arms around Sherlock's waist and pulling him close._

_Sherlock hummed and laughed softly down John's ear. 'I don't think I need help in making my ego bigger but very well go ahead.'_

_'Mmm. Let's start with that voice, shall we?' John hummed, kissing Sherlock's throat. 'God, it makes my knees weak. I could listen to you read the bloody dictionary and I would hang on every word.'_

_He moved to Sherlock's cheeks and kissed them. 'And these gorgeous cheekbones. God. They're fucking gorgeous. I could cut myself slapping your face, but I'm not exactly keen to try.'_

_He moved further down and tweaked Sherlock's nipples through his shirt. 'Your chest is magnificent. Perfectly toned and sculpted. It's gorgeous.' John fell down onto his knees and gripped Sherlock's bum tight._

_'I'm pretty fond of this too.' He grinned cheekily up at Sherlock. 'And your gorgeous, gorgeous wings. So beautiful. I wish I had a pair so I could fly with you. And last but not least, your cock.' He suckled on the head of Sherlock's cock through his trousers, moaning softly._

_'Oh yes, well, now I come to think of it I am rather sexy,' Sherlock moaned out, his hips jumping upwards slightly as the heat from John's mouth surrounded his cock._

_'Good. You do see what I see.' He hastily unzipped Sherlock's trousers, his cock springing free, and sucked him into his mouth._

_'Mmm,' Sherlock hummed loudly and looked down at John with lust filled eyes. 'Yes. I see an extremely good looking bloke.'_

_John smiled around Sherlock's cock and sucked harder, wanking where he couldn't reach. Sherlock was absolutely beautiful when he was being pleasured. The flush to his cheeks, his dark eyes, his muscles rippling as he moved. He was so beautiful._

_Pleasure. Such pleasure. Before Sherlock had been made John's guardian angel he hadn't felt a thing like it. Now he couldn't get enough of it. John hummed and began bobbing his head, sucking Sherlock harder._

**_Come on. Cum for me. Cum! I want to see my beautiful angel cum!_ **

_Sherlock jerked his hips and was cumming down John's throat in no time. 'Oh god! John!'_

_John didn't pull away that time. He allowed Sherlock to cum down his throat but he spit the rest out when he pulled away. He pulled a face at the taste and willed it away, looking up at Sherlock who was still utterly debauched._

_'So beautiful,' he whispered, kneading the flesh of Sherlock's thighs with his fingers. 'My beautiful angel.'_

_'Mmm. Your beautiful angel. Always and forever yours.'_

_John could feel his fingers tingling. No! He didn't want to leave yet! But... No. The alarm. It was already beeping. Fuck!_

_'I have to go, Sherlock,' he said quickly. 'School. I... I'll see you at lunch. Meet you at the front doors, OK?'_

_'Yes, alright,' Sherlock smiled as John slowly faded away. 'See ya there.'_

John groaned awake and shut off his alarm. He rolled over and stared at the ceiling, wishing for all the world that he didn't have to wake up and go to school. He forced himself out of bed and into his bathroom, showering and brushing his teeth before getting dressed. He didn't bother with breakfast. He hadn't been eating much lately anyway. He gathered his books and went out to wait for the bus. He got on and sat in his normal spot, avoiding looking at anyone. As soon as he got to school he put his books in his locker, grabbed the ones he needed, and went off to his first class, shuffling his feet the entire way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this makes up for the angst last chapter. Sherlock and John have their first day at school together as Guardian and human, and it's a rather interesting adventure ;) I think I can have it up by Thursday or Friday, but I'm making no promises.
> 
> See you all next time!
> 
> TSA + IB


	11. School Trip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. I am uploading this instead of doing my homework that is due Monday. I am a perfectionist when it comes to procrastinating. This is a bad thing, but right now I really don't care. I just want to eat ice cream and gummy bears and watch TV. But at the very least I've gotten the research portion of my homework done. Now I just have to write it all down.
> 
> Also, great news! I'm moving into an apartment! I'm signing the lease on the 28th and I'll be living in an apartment starting in August! Yay! I'm an adult now! I get to pay bills and shit. I need to get a job. Shit.
> 
> But I digress...
> 
> InvisibleBlade: Sherlock  
> Me: John, bullies, Mary  
> Shared: John's teacher
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: bullying, physical violence, Sherlock is scary as shit, public masturbation, discipline for public masturbation, John is a dick to Sherlock (again), Sherlock runs away from John (again), cutting, blood loss, suicidal actions massive cliffhanger (I'm so sorry)

Sherlock awoke early, wanting to get to John's school as quickly as possible, but then of course the idiotic nurses wanted to check him out to make sure everything was all in working order. That took him to lunchtime. God, he was going to be late at this rate. He wasn't going to let John down. Not this time. Absolutely no way. He rushed out of the hospital and soared up into the sky. His wings flapped frantically and he flew at such a speed that his lungs began to burn in exhaustion. By the time he arrived at the school he was utterly exhausted but that didn't stop the grin spreading across his face at the sight of John.

John had barely looked up at Sherlock when he heard voices coming down the hall. No. Oh please no.

'Watson!'

Fuck.

'Watson!' the voice said again. 'What are you doing? Little anorexic skipping lunch?'

John ignored him, focusing on Sherlock instead. He was almost there.

'Oi! I'm talking to you shit brick!' He was shoved roughly and fell to the floor, landing on his elbow. 'Look at me when I talk to you faggot!'

John still didn't look at him, didn't even try to get up. Sherlock would arrive soon and kick their arses.

'Yeah! Look a' 'im when he talks t' yous,' another voice chimed in.

'Whatcha lookin' at anyways?' The three boys turned to look out the window and saw Sherlock running across the grass. 'Oh. He your angel? Is he coming to protect his weakling of a human?'

'Shut up,' John finally growled, standing up.

'Excuse me?'

'I said, shut up. Or are you so stupid you can't understand a word I'm saying?'

'Fuck you!' John fell to the floor again, a fist colliding with his eye, and he cried out, landing flat on his bum.

'Little baby gonna cry? You gonna cry, baby? Well, this is what we do to cry babies.' A foot was raised to either stomp him or kick him in the face. John wasn't sure. He just wanted his angel.

'Sherlock!'

Sherlock felt anger bubble in his blood, an intense heat building in his chest, and a strong need to scare the shit out of the little twerp who had just hurt his human. He stormed over to the idiots surrounding John, a fierce growl ripping from his throat. His fists clenched at his side and his lips peeled back to form an ugly grin.

'John Watson is mine. Do you understand? You shall not harm him ever again. Do you understand?'

'Aww, isn't he adorable boys?' The ringleader of the bullies huffed a loud laugh. 'I bet he's a pussy, just like our John here.' He probed a thumb in John Watson's direction. The anorexic pipsqueak was still on the floor, gawping at the scene in front of him.

'I am far from adorable,' Sherlock growled. With a dangerous smile he began to emit fear into the air. All of the bullies began to scream like girls, including the ringleader.

'You will never harm John again,' Sherlock reiterated. 'If you touch a hair on his body I will not hesitate in killing you. Is that perfectly clear?' He pulled back, raised his arm, and smashed the ring leader across the jaw. He punched him over and over, across the jaw a few more times, in the gut, and lastly in the bollocks.

'Come on John, we're leaving.' Sherlock helped John off the floor and began to lead him away.

As for the bullies, they could remain terrified of their own shadows for a good few days. That would teach them not to touch John.

John held his free hand to his bruised eye as Sherlock lead him away. He had never seen that side of Sherlock before. That was actually quite terrifying. He swallowed audibly as Sherlock lead him away and back towards the cafeteria.

'Not hungry,' he mumbled. 'Don't force me to eat.'

'At least have a snack. I know for a fact you missed breakfast,' Sherlock pleaded. He stopped walking and turned to John. 'But first let me fix that.' He placed his hand over John's swollen eye and healed it till it was good as new.

'OK. Fine. I'll get some crisps out of the machine.' John pulled out his wallet and inserted a bill into the machine, punching in the number of his selection. It plopped down and he reached in to grab it, noting how much better his eye looked already.

'Thanks for that back there,' he said, opening the crisp packet and popping one into his mouth. 'And for fixing my eye.'

'It's what I'm here for, isn't it? Fixing you. Being your guardian angel.'

'Yes. I suppose it is.' John popped another crisp in his mouth and chewed slowly. 'So... now what? Do I just go about my normal school day?'

'You could. Of course you could. But wouldn't you enjoy a nice fly? And maybe–' He whispered the next part. 'We could make love for real.'

John nearly dropped his crisp packet at Sherlock's words. Was he ready for that?

'I... I can't just skip school for that. L-later, after school. We can go fly and find a nice spot to snog. And then... then we can go home and I'll... I'll have sex with you.'

'Yes, but no one's at your home right now, correct? If we go now we can have at least a couple of hours of fun.'

'I can't. Sherlock, I can't. I can't just leave my classes right now. These are the important ones that will get me into med school.' The bell rang and John shoved a handful of crisps in his mouth, walking back to his locker, Sherlock in tow. 'After school. I promise. I only have a few hours left.'

'Mmm. I guess I have to sit in on said classes. Don't blame me if I sexually frustrate you during it.'

'Just keep quiet and I think we'll be OK,' John said as he reached his locker, pulling out his medical textbooks and walking to class.

'I'll be quiet. You on the other hand...'

'Shush. If you get me in trouble I swear–' He paused and looked around, making sure no one would overhear. He then leaned in close to Sherlock and whispered, 'I won't shag you later tonight. Nor will I allow you to attempt to shag me with that monster cock of yours. Don't get me in trouble.'

Sherlock huffed and whispered back, 'Deny me that and I'll deny you a month's worth of dream sex.'

'Then don't get me in trouble and we won't have a problem,' John said as he entered the classroom. The teacher had yet to arrive, as usual, so John took his usual seat and gestured for Sherlock to sit next to him.

'It's a pretty empty class, so you can take a seat,' he explained. 'There's only a handful of us in here.'

Sherlock took a seat beside John and grinned at him giddily. 'I'll try not to distract you too badly then.'

'Good. This is my career field. So don't make me miss the lesson.' The teacher walked in then, followed by the other students. They all sat as he wrote something on the board. John opened his notebook and scrawled it down.

'OK class,' the teacher said, turning around. 'Today we're– Oh. Seems we have an angel with us today. Is he yours, James?'

'Uh... It's John. But yes, he's mine.'

'John. Right. Yes. Sorry,' the teacher apologised. 'I'm terrible at names. But I'll get there. So, what brings you to human anatomy? Interested in learning more about a human's biology?'

Sherlock forced a smile on his face. He didn't like the teacher, not one bit. 'I suppose in a way that's why I'm here. I hope you don't mind me sitting in. I'm Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes.'

'Nice to meet you, Sherlock,' the teacher said with a smile. 'If you have any questions, don't be afraid to speak up. OK. So, as I was saying, today we'll be reading more about cells, mitosis, and meiosis. Just a refresher course from your prerequisite biology class. Then we'll move on to organ systems.' He turned back to the board and wrote a page number on it, opening his own book and putting it on the projector.

John wasn't really listening. He had this stuff memorised from his biology class last semester. He sighed and sunk down in his chair, utterly bored.

Sherlock watched John from the corner of his eye and smirked to himself. John was bored. Sherlock was equally as bored and in need for some amusement. He snaked one of his hands under his desk and pushed it down into his trousers. He fondled his own balls and began to wank himself slowly. All the while he managed to stay completely calm and focused on the class. This little performance was all for John.

John saw movement from Sherlock out of the corner of his eye. He glanced over and paled instantly. What the fuck?!

'Sherlock,' he whispered quietly. 'What are you doing?'

'Shhh,' Sherlock hushed John softly, his movements speeding up. 'I'm learning all about human biology.'

'The hell you are,' John hissed back. His trousers were beginning to feel tight as he watched Sherlock work himself faster. He squeezed his legs together tighter, not wanting to spread then open and risk rutting against his own jeans.

Sherlock's lips twitched in amusement. His hips jerked upwards and he squeezed his prick tighter. Teasing John was fun indeed. John whimpered softly and snaked a hand down to cup himself, whimpering again from the touch. Fuck. He could probably cum like that, watching Sherlock touch himself. Oh fuck. He was. He was gonna cum. He wrenched his hand away before he had the chance, panting slightly. Fuck he was gonna be in so much trouble if he was found out. Sherlock snuck a cheeky wink back at John before facing the front again. He slid a little further down in his chair, jerked his hips more insistently, and came with a quiet whimper.

 _Fuck it._  John returned his hand to his throbbing prick and rut against it twice before he came, barely muffling his groans.

'John Watson what on Earth do you think you're doing?!' the teacher exclaimed, eyeing his student carefully. Sherlock quickly removed his hand from his trousers and bit his lip nervously.

'N-nothing, sir,' John stammered, removing his hand from his crotch, swallowing audibly. He sent a glare over to Sherlock.

'I don't think such behavior as touching yourself in my class is nothing, young man! Now get out! I will not tolerate such things! The headmaster will hear about this, and your parents too!'

John groaned and gathered his books, stomping out of the room and toward the headmaster's office. Great. Fucking great. Third day of school and he was already in trouble.

Sherlock quickly excused himself from the room and hurried after John. 'Hey, look, I'm sorry. I'll get you out of this, promise.'

'Shut up,' John growled, plopping down on a bench by the office. 'Third day back,  _third day,_  and I'm already in trouble. And for cumming in my bloody pants no less. Thanks a whole fucking lot.'

'Should I... should I go? Let you have some air to breathe.'

'No. You can stay. You said you can help me out of this, so help me. I don't want to get suspended for jerking off in class.'

'OK. But, uh... then I'll go. Just for a little bit. I can see you need some time to cool off. You're not particularly happy with me.'

'Ya think?' John spat. 'I'll definitely need some time to myself after this. Thank god I only have two classes left. I'll see you at home. Then we can talk or whatever.'

Sherlock nodded briefly and curtly walked into the headmaster's office.

'Excuse me? Haven't you heard of– oh. Hello there. I'm terribly sorry. I wasn't aware that you were an angel.'

'Hello. I'm Sherlock Holmes. Look, I'll make this quick. John Watson is not at fault. It was all a misunderstanding, OK?' Sherlock used a little of his powers to influence the headmaster.

The headmaster nodded. 'Yes, of course. Send him back to his classes.'

Sherlock smiled. 'Thank you.' He walked back out of the office and without making eye contact with John said, 'Everything is sorted. I apologise. I will see you later.'

'Might wanna glamour my teacher or whatever the hell it is you do,' John grumbled. 'He won't let me back into class after that.'

'Fine.' Sherlock trotted off to the class and explained everything to the teacher before returning to John. 'You can go in now. He's fine.'

'Thanks. See ya at home.'

Sherlock nodded and watched as John walked sulkily back to class. He'd really screwed up this time, hadn't he? He left the school quickly, not wanting to hang around a moment longer. As he flew to the Watson residence he felt wave after wave of guilt consume him. What the fuck had he been thinking?! John had asked him not to get him into trouble and he had. What kind of angel did that make him? A bloody shit one was the answer.

The house was empty when he arrived which was probably for the best, considering how wound up Sherlock was. He raced up the stairs and into John's room. He was shaking with emotion. God, why did he have to always screw things up when it came to John? Scratch that. Why did he always have to screw up full stop? He was a shit angel. He didn't deserve someone as good and big hearted as John.

Sherlock let out a choked sob of 'I'm so sorry, John.' It was useless though. John couldn't hear him. Their bond was fairly new so their psychic link wasn't particularly strong. Tears dripped from his eyes and cascaded down his cheekbones, landing with a horrible splash on the floor beneath him. It was then that he caught sight of it. A box of blades. John used these to hurt himself on a regular basis. Sherlock was supposed to protect him from doing that. He'd failed. He was a failure.

He grabbed a fresh blade and held it between his finger and thumb, inspecting it carefully. Why did John cut? He was only punishing himself. Punishing himself... Sherlock had wronged John. Sherlock was the one who deserved to be punished. Before he could stop himself he was standing over the sink in John's bathroom, a blade held to his wrist. He cut off what link he and John did have so John wouldn't be able to feel his pain and he sunk the sharp object into his skin.

As an angel he healed quickly which only meant he had to make deeper marks and more of them. The blood pooled out of the cuts over his pale skin and fell into the sink. It was painful but a good sort of pain. He felt clean and less of a failure. Sherlock waited till he'd lost at least three pints of blood before washing his cuts. He pocketed the blade. Who knew when he'd need it next?

Sherlock collapsed onto John's bed weakly, his wings curling limply over him. God. He was such a fuck up. Falling for a human and failing to protect him. He deserved to be dead.

**...::-::...**

John sulked for the rest of the day, alternating between completely pissed and guilty. What the fuck had Sherlock been thinking? Jerking off in a classroom was one of the worst things you could do. He scowled as he made his way to his next class, not even noticing the other person who'd sidled up next to him.

'John?' The boy blinked and turned to see Mary beside him, a look of utter concern on her face. 'Are you OK?'

'Mary. Oh, yes, just mad at my angel. He got me in trouble.'

'What kind of trouble?'

'You don't want to know. Trust me.'

'Oh. Um, OK. Well, wanna walk to class? We have the same English class after all.'

'Yeah. Sure,' John said, smiling softly at her.

'No problem.'

They sat together and worked on their in-class essays, chatting occasionally when the teacher was talking. God it was good to talk to Mary again. He'd forgotten how wonderful she was after all his shit with Sherlock.

'So... the Valentine dance is next month,' Mary said suddenly, very quiet, which was unlike her. 'Were you thinking about going?'

'Isn't that the dance where the girls ask the boys?'

'Yeah.'

Something clicked in John's brain. 'Are... Are you asking me to the dance?'

'Um...' Mary blushed, another thing unlikely for her to do. 'Y-yes. I... I think I am.'

John couldn't stop the grin from spreading across his face. Mary was asking him to a dance?! A legit dance?! Holy fuck! Maybe his luck was turning around!

'Yeah. Yeah, I'll go with you,' he answered, smiling broadly at her.

'Really?' Mary perked up, smiling shyly. 'I mean... cool. It's cool.'

'Yes. It's very cool.'

**...::-::...**

John and Mary walked home together after school, chatting animatedly. She was going into a teaching career, changing her mind again from being a nurse. She wanted to teach the younger generation, primary school perhaps. Maybe public like Harrow if she could get hired. John told her of his new dream of becoming a doctor and she smiled at him in encouragement.

'You'd make a great doctor, John. You have a wonderful disposition. People will love you as their doctor.'

'Thanks.' John grinned back, blushing slightly at her praise. 'Well, this is me. I'll see you tomorrow?'

'Tomorrow.' She grinned and waved as she walked to her own house, just down the road, and John watched her leave. God she was perfect and beautiful and smart and so caring. She'd be a great teacher. He hummed softly and entered his house. His mum was cooking supper, his father watching TV. Seems despite his personality change his habits hadn't. John kissed his mum on the cheek and went to his bedroom. Sherlock was asleep on his bed, curled in on himself. John deposited his homework on his desk and went into his bathroom to use the loo. When he saw the blood in the sink his heart nearly stopped. Where had that come from? He ran back out to Sherlock and held a hand to his forehead. Clammy, cold, he was shivering and deadly pale. Fuck!

'Sherlock?' he said softly, shaking his shoulder gently. 'Sherlock, wake up please. I wanna talk to you.'

'Not now, John. Sleeping,' Sherlock mumbled. 'We'll talk later, OK?'

'No. We're talking now.' John pulled Sherlock into a sitting position and propped him up with pillows. 'What I want to know is why there's blood in my sink.'

'Angels are known for our animal sacrifices. Sorry. I was in the mood for one. Don't look at me like that. I feel and look like shit because my body is still recovering from the overdose I took over from you. I don't know what you think I've done but I haven't. Please let me sleep. I need it.'

'Oh. Animal sacrifice? What ritual? What animal?' John asked skeptically. He noticed the box of blades open on his floor, pushed haphazardly under his bed. That was  _not_  where he left it.

'Liar,' he growled. 'You cut yourself. Almost bled yourself dry. What the fuck?! Was this about getting me in trouble? It was, wasn't it? Sherlock, why? I wasn't going to be mad at you forever? Why would you hurt yourself like that?'

'John, I used a blade to kill the fucking animal. Which by the way was a rabbit. Shop bought of course. Not quite as good as a wild rabbit. But it did. Why would you even imply that I'm suicidal? John, if I had cut you would have felt it. Angels don't feel suicidal. Learn your facts before you accuse me of something I haven't done, alright?'

'That's not bright enough for animal blood!' John countered. 'It's dark, human, or from a human vessel. And all that blood didn't come from a fucking rabbit! There's too much! So  _you_  get your fucking facts straight before you lie to me!'

'You know what? My first impression of you was correct. You are just a little, attention seeking, stuck up brat,' Sherlock snarled, standing to his feet, towering above John. 'I'm off. Do enjoy life John Watson. I'll request a transfer of humans right away. Goodbye!' Sherlock was out of the house before John could protest.

'Good fucking riddance you fucker!' John hollered after him, slamming his window shut with a huff. 'Who needs him? He's been nothing but trouble since he arrived.' He sat down and busied himself with his homework, not bothering to eat dinner. He didn't need food. He didn't need any _one_  or any _thing_. He reached into his box of blades and cut some fresh notches into his arms, bandaging them up before going to bed.

That night, the blade Sherlock had taken dug into his flesh again. This time there were more cuts and they were far deeper. The blade also moved to his throat, cutting into it deeply, and both his thighs. Sherlock slid to the floor in a back alley somewhere, passing out from severe blood loss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry please don't kill me. At the very least you only have to wait a couple of days for the resolution because I'll be updating this again on Tuesday because this is such a shitty cliffhanger I'm so sorry. To set you all at ease, Sherlock survives. But he isn't exactly happy about it at first. Also, we're nearing the rapey bits. That comes along in chapter 15, so I'm warning you four chapters in advance. I'll put a warning in the chapter too so you can skip it if you don't want to read about it. Chapter 15 is also when the Mpreg warning come into play. Yes, what you just read is true. I'm not going to divulge much further as I don't want to basically give away the whole plot of the chapter.
> 
> I'll see you guys again on Tuesday when I update so this horrendous cliffhanger can be resolved.
> 
> TSA + IB


	12. Rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Happy Tuesday. I am currently Skyping with InvisibleBlade and we're arguing over the pronunciation of Tuesday. It's rather funny.
> 
> This is to fix the dreadful cliffhanger from last chapter. I hope this helps.
> 
> InvisibleBlade: Mycroft, Sherlock, Mrs Hudson  
> Me: John
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: Mycroft is a bit of a dick, mentions of blood and blood loss, vomiting, emotional Sherlock, angst, and some fluff at the end.

John twitched and whimpered in his sleep, feeling very weak indeed. He blinked as he began to wake, taking in his dark room and then the figure looking over him.

'Mycroft!' he nearly screeched, almost falling out of bed as the angel's presence startled him. 'What are you doing here? Presenting me my new angel?'

'New angel?' Mycroft questioned sharply. 'No, you idiotic child. This is about your current one. I believe him to be in great danger. I can't locate him. He's gone off the grid. You're my last hope. Reach out to him. Tell me what you find.'

'D-danger?' John gulped. 'What kind? And how do I reach out to him?'

'I don't know what kind. It's just a terrible hunch of mine. Try using your mind. You're connected. Search for him.'

'Um... OK.' John closed his eyes and began thinking of Sherlock, feeling himself reach out and trying to find him. He did, and he didn't like what he saw.

'I... I found him.' He swallowed thickly. 'But I don't know his exact location. And... it doesn't look good at all.'

'Not good how?'

'There's... a lot of blood.' John swallowed, trying to find Sherlock's location. 'He's... alive. I think. Just passed out from blood loss. He's in an alley somewhere. Somewhere quiet. He's... I don't know. I can't see any buildings or street signs.'

'Dear lord. I'll go flying and I'll search the back alleys. You can help me. He's your angel.'

'Help how?' John asked, opening his eyes and looking at Mycroft. 'I don't know what to do. They don't teach us this in school. And you can only learn so much from books. I've only made a dent in my research as it is. Tell me what to do. Please. You've been at this longer than I have. Please. I... We may have had a massive row but I don't want Sherlock to die.'

'You'll search on foot.' Mycroft sighed loudly. 'Remember how he enters your dreams? I know it's a lot to ask, but go into his dream.'

'I thought I could only do that while we were asleep?'

'No. You should be able to do it now too. Hurry. He could be dying,' Mycroft growled loudly.

'Stop making me nervous! It's not helping!'

'He could be dying! Get onto it, pronto!'

'Ugh! Fine!' John closed his eyes and honed in on Sherlock again, attempting to break into his mind. How the fuck did someone even go about doing that anyway? Suddenly he could see the dungeon walls behind his eyelids and swallowed thickly. Sherlock was chained to the wall, a great deal brighter than he was used to seeing.

'I'm in,' he told Mycroft. 'What now?'

'Go to him. You'll need to try and get a location from him.'

'And if he doesn't tell me?' John swallowed, dreading the answer.

'Then it's likely he'll die and you'll receive a new angel.'

'Wait... Is that how we get new angels? If our current one dies? Sherlock said he was gonna get me a new angel. Was... was that him saying he was going to kill himself?'

'He said that?' Mycroft gasped. 'Yes, I'm rather afraid that the only way you're getting a new angel is if your current one dies.'

'Oh my god.' John returned to Sherlock's dream, seething mad. 'Sherlock! How dare you threaten to kill yourself to get me another angel! I don't want another angel! I want you!'

'It's done, John. I'm dying.'

'The fuck you are! Tell me where you are. I'm not letting you die!'

'I... I think I'm near your house. I don't really know.'

'Look around. Wake yourself up enough to find any distinguishing features. Buildings, street signs, awnings with shop names. Please! I don't want you to die!'

'Wait. I can hear a voice–' Sherlock was awoken abruptly by a kind looking woman shaking his shoulder.

'Oh, you poor dear. What happened to you? I've called an ambulance. Don't you fret. You'll be OK.'

'Fuck!' John cried, wrenched from Sherlock's dream. 'He... He woke up. No. Some _one_  woke him up. He's been found at least. Check local hospitals. When you find him, please tell me. I want to apologise to him.'

Mycroft glared at John. 'What exactly did you two argue about?'

'He got me in trouble at school. I got mad. He left,' John answered softly, looking away from Mycroft's harsh glare.

Mycroft's glare intensified. 'Now try the whole truth, John. There's more to it than that.'

'I... I came home and there was blood in my bathroom sink. Sherlock was asleep and deadly pale, so I knew it was from him. He... He used one of my blades to cut into himself. We argued about it and he left, stating he was getting me a new angel or a transfer of humans. He must have taken the blade with him. Don't hit me!' he cried when Mycroft raised his fist, cowering in the corner of his bed and covering his face with his arms, shaking like a leaf.

'You idiot! You let him go when you knew something was wrong! What on Earth is wrong with you?!'

'Everything! Everything, OK?! I'm anorexic, I'm depressed, I'm suicidal! So  _everything_  is wrong with me!'

Mycroft growled and threw his arms up in the air in pure frustration. 'Come on. I have a feeling I know which hospital he'll be taken to.'

John threw his sheets off and put shoes and a jacket on, not bothering to get out of his pyjamas and get properly dressed.

'OK. Let's go.'

Mycroft nodded. 'When we get outside, jump onto my back. It'll be quicker that way.'

'OK. But I've never ridden an angel before. So, I might choke you when you take off and land.' He quietly lead Mycroft downstairs and scrawled a note for his mum, telling her he'd be at the hospital as Sherlock had had another accident. He led Mycroft out the door and stopped at the base of their driveway.

'OK. Let's get going.' He swallowed nervously. He hadn't had a chance to ride Sherlock yet, and was even more nervous about riding his brother. He was a very menacing angel indeed.

Mycroft knelt down for John. 'Choke me and I'll throw you off.'

'Then I'll try not to choke you.' John clambered on and held tightly onto Mycroft's shoulders, his legs clamping around his waist. 'OK. I'm ready.'

Mycroft grumbled a reply under his breath before taking off into the sky, his wings flapping frantically in the rush to get to his baby brother. John closed his eyes and held on tight. Mycroft's flight was erratic and he kept swerving to bypass trees and buildings. John knew for a fact he was going to throw up the second he was back on his own two feet. It happened at amusement parks all the time after he got off particularly brutal roller coasters. Mycroft raced to St. Bart's frantically, almost tripping as he hit the ground with a dull thud. He shrugged John off of him.

'Come on. We must look for him.'

John stumbled off to the nearest rubbish bin and violently threw up into it, expelling the few crisps he'd eaten at lunch. Now he was dizzy and lightheaded. Fuck. He needed food. His blood sugar was too low.

'I need food,' he gasped out, clutching his head. 'Haven't eaten all day.'

'Here. Have this.' Mycroft passed him an apple. 'Not a good flyer, hmm?'

'I don't do well with sharp turns,' John said, biting into the apple. Sweet and juicy and oh so delicious. He hummed and followed Mycroft into the hospital, eating his apple all the while.

'Have they added the special angel wings to hospitals yet?' he asked as they roamed the halls. 'Or are they still only available in select locations like this one?'

'They've begun to put up some signs. Follow me. If he's here he'll be in this section.' Mycroft strode down a corridor with a sign picturing angel wings hung from the ceiling. John tossed his apple core in a bin and sucked the remaining juices from his fingers. He followed Mycroft dutifully until he stopped in front of a room. Sherlock was inside hooked up to bags of blood and some machinery, monitoring his heart rate and blood pressure.

'Oh thank god,' John breathed out in relief.

'Mmm. My thoughts exactly. My God. He's cut into his neck, too. What on Earth possessed him to do such a thing?'

'This looks like it was about a lot more than just our row at school,' John mused, moving into the room. Sherlock was out cold, his mouth open, and he was snoring slightly.

'Are you certain it was the row he was so broken up about? It wasn't something else?'

'It appeared so,' John said softly. 'I don't know what else it could be.'

'My brother always has had suicidal ideations. He's never acted on them however. Not until now.'

'He said angels couldn't be suicidal.' John frowned. 'Maybe this was about him feeling like a failure. He protected me from my bullies but then accidentally got me in trouble in class. I don't know what was going through his head, but he seemed really upset.'

'Angels aren't supposed to feel suicidal. We aren't supposed to feel anything. But then, Sherlock isn't most angels. He doesn't cope with suppressed emotions. Love, anger, fear, feeling like a failure. It brews inside of him and makes him do idiotic things.'

'Like try to kill himself,' John surmised.

'Yes. Well, with you as his human, it's hardly surprising he took this route.'

'What is that supposed to mean?' John asked, looking at Mycroft sharply.

'That you only increase his suicidal thoughts. You practically handed him the blade for goodness sake,' Mycroft growled, looking sharply back at John.

John growled right back, standing his ground. He wasn't going to let this bully of an angel intimidate him. If only he had been like this with his human bullies.

'Sherlock is good for me,' he growled. 'Since his arrival I've eaten better and stopped cutting. I only relapse when he's gone for long periods of time. He's healing me, slowly but surely, and he's becoming a good friend. So don't you  _dare_  accuse me of nearly murdering him!'

'So?! You've been cutting, John! How do you think that makes him feel?! Of course he feels like a failure!'

'I cut because he was in a mild coma due to saving me from a sleeping pill overdose!' John yelled back. 'Where were you during that ordeal? Because I was there every day after school until dinner and I never saw you once!'

'I  _was_  there! I came every night!'

'Every... Shit.' John turned away and sat on the bench by the window. Fuck. Had Mycroft seen them cuddled up together?

'Yes, I saw,' Mycroft answered John's silent question.

'I can explain that,' John said quickly. Perhaps a bit  _too_  quickly. 'I was tired. I hadn't been sleeping so Sherlock offered to let me nap with him. Apparently if we're in close contact it sharpens the shared dream. So... I cuddled him. But that was all! I swear! I'm not a Winger! And I don't want Sherlock to be grounded.'

'I would never report my own brother. But I can tell what's really going on and I must ask you to stop. It's not healthy, for either of you.'

'Really going on? Mycroft, there's nothing going on between your brother and I beside jitters about being new to each other. We're still adjusting, learning one another. There's nothing else going on. I swear.'

'I've seen your dreams, John.'

John paled dramatically. 'How?'

'I like to check on Sherlock every now and then. I didn't like what I saw.'

'Fuck,' John groaned, hiding his face in his hands. 'I... I can't lie my way out of that one. But, if it helps, I have a date with a human girl this Saturday. I should be able to keep myself away from Sherlock that way.'

'Good. If Sherlock asks for... sex, don't give it to him. Believe me, people get hurt when an angel and a human fall in love. I know far too well of how it can destroy bonds. You may not love him in such a way, but don't be so sure that Sherlock feels the same. I think he's fallen for you hook, line, and sinker. Just look at him. Go on. Look.'

John swallowed and looked at Sherlock. He didn't see what Mycroft could, but Sherlock did indeed look... broken. John sighed loudly and looked back to Mycroft, feeling a little broken himself.

'I'm sorry. I never meant for feelings to develop. I didn't even want this to happen at all, this sexual experiment. But I was horny and Sherlock was there and we just... well, you already know. But I'll put a stop to it. I don't want either of us to get hurt or damned or whatever.'

'Good to hear. Because from what I can gather, he doesn't see this as a sexual experiment. He sees it as far more.'

'Right. Yeah. No more sex.' John nodded slowly. 'Are you going to stay here? Because I can't. I have school in the morning.'

'Don't you think Sherlock is more important right now? You can always take catch up lessons. I'm afraid Sherlock won't be happy I'm here.'

'Yeah. My angel is more important right now. And it's early in the semester. It's all still review right now. So, yeah. I'll stay. Thanks for bringing me here though.'

'You're welcome. Ah. He's waking up. I should go.'

John nodded and watched Mycroft disappear in a burst of light. Holy shit. That was pretty cool. He turned back to Sherlock and took a seat by his bedside, trying to make himself appear calm.

Sherlock winced his eyes open and groaned. 'Am I dead?'

'No,' John answered softly. 'You're in hospital. Lost a lot of blood.' He picked up Sherlock's chart and read through it. There were some aspects he didn't understand but he understood enough to know what was going on and how Sherlock was being treated.

'Apparently a woman named Mrs Hudson found you in the alley between 221 Baker Street and a little sandwich shop. She called the ambulance and they got you hooked up to fluids and blood. The chart says you'll be here until tomorrow. They want to make sure your body accepts the blood and that you won't try to kill yourself again.'

'I can't promise anything. It felt so good. I felt so free, John. I was beautifully happy. I can see why you cut now.'

'I don't cut to feel that,' John frowned. 'I cut to not feel at all. To feel numb to everything.'

'Angels can't feel anything,' Sherlock giggled. 'But pain. God. The pain was bliss.'

'Can't feel anything?' John scowled. He took a bold risk and moved to press a kiss to Sherlock's knuckles. 'I know for a fact you felt that. Your heart started beating faster.'

Sherlock tugged his hand away. 'Don't touch me like that, John.'

'Fine. We need to stop doing that anyway.' John sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. 'Mycroft knows.'

'What?' A tear dribbled from Sherlock's eye.

'Mycroft knows about us,' John repeated. 'And I think it's in our best interests to stop having dream sex and kissing and all that.'

Sherlock shook his head. 'No. I – I don't want it to end.'

'It has to, Sherlock,' John said softly. 'It's illegal. It got me in trouble in school. And your brother basically said if it didn't end then he'd break our bond and end it himself. That's what I took from it anyway.'

'No!' Sherlock screamed, a flood of tears coursing down his face. He lunged forward, ripping the wires he was attached to out, and grabbed John by the face and pushed his lips onto John's.

'N-no. P-p-please.'

'Sherlock! Stop!' John protested, pulling back. 'We can't do this! And look what you did to yourself! You ripped all your wires out! Shit!'

A medical team came rushing in and pushed John aside, holding a very emotional Sherlock down and reattached his IVs and wires. They injected a mild sedative into him to help him relax, a glazed look now in Sherlock's eyes. They left, glancing over to John but said nothing. John returned to Sherlock's side, his gaze apologetic.

'I'm sorry, Sherlock, but it has to end. We can't continue like this. It isn't healthy. Can we please to back to a platonic angel-human relationship? It really is for the best.'

'Too late. I think I'm in love with you.'

'Sherlock, you don't even  _know_  me,' John sighed. 'Apart from the file or whatever you have that tells you  _about_  me, you don't  _know_  me. You can't possibly love me.'

'I do! You have no right to tell me how to feel!'

'You don't know  _what_  you're feeling! You said yourself that angels aren't allowed to love. So how would you know that's what you're feeling?'

'I–' Sherlock choked. 'I don't know.'

'Then you don't know if you love me.' John sighed and looked away. 'And what do you know about me anyway? I don't know anything about you.'

'You're right. I know only one thing. You're better off without me.' Sherlock disappeared in a flash of light.

'God dammit!' John cried, turning to punch something off a shelf. 'Mycroft!'

'He's gone back to your home. He knows of little other places to go,' Mycroft said, turning up in a flash of light.

John jumped and spun around. Mycroft was standing behind him.

'He's at my house?' he asked softly. 'But I told him we were breaking things off. Sexually at least. Why would he return to my home? I thought he'd want nothing to do with me?'

'He's also extremely weak. He wouldn't have been able to go far.'

'Oh. Well, could you take me to him? I don't want to waste any time getting home. He could be gone by then.'

'Yes, alright. Take my hand. We'll take a shortcut.'

John reluctantly took Mycroft's hand, grasping it tight. Mycroft and John disappeared in a flash of light, ending up in John's room. Sherlock was fast asleep on his bed. John held his head as they reappeared, his vision blurry and completely dizzy. That was worse than the flying. He blinked a few times to right his vision and saw Sherlock curled up in a ball on his bed, his wings wrapped protectively around himself.

'Do I let him sleep or wake him?' John asked softly.

'It's up to you. Just... look after him.' And with that Mycroft was gone.

John sighed and moved over to his bed. He lied down in front of Sherlock, facing him, and gently clasped one of his hands. As much as he had said to Mycroft, he didn't want what he had with Sherlock to end either. He enjoyed it far too much to just end it like it meant nothing.

'I'm sorry,' he whispered, tucking a stray curl away from Sherlock's forehead. 'I'm so sorry. Don't listen to your brother. Or what I said earlier. I don't want this to end either. Though we need to be more secretive about it. No more sex in dreams. We'll just have to actually do it. But when we're both ready. Just sleep, OK? Get your strength back. We'll talk in the morning.'

John pressed a warm kiss to Sherlock's forehead and pressed himself closer, pulling Sherlock toward him and cuddling close. He slept dreamlessly, barely actually sleeping, and felt Sherlock begin to relax against him as the hours passed.

'I'm so fucked up,' Sherlock whispered in his sleep. 'Look at me. Suicidal bastard. Need you to hug me better.'

'Shhh,' John whispered, hugging Sherlock close. 'Shhh. It's OK. I'm here. We're gonna be OK. We're gonna make each other better.'

'I somehow doubt that.'

'Well, I can hope for the best,' John said softly. 'Just let me be positive, OK?'

'OK. Sorry. For everything. I've failed you. I always fail you.'

'You haven't failed me, Sherlock,' John whispered softly. 'I'm still here, aren't I? And you did a great job dealing with my bullies. I could have kissed you.'

Sherlock snuggled closer to John. 'I wouldn't have minded. You can kiss me now if you like.'

'Mmm. I think I will.' John tilted Sherlock's chin up and gently melded their lips together, humming softly. Sherlock moaned and weakly pushed himself up so he could lie on top of John whilst kissing him passionately.

'Forget what I said,' John moaned softly, tangling his fingers in Sherlock's hair. 'I don't want this to end.'

'But my feelings... they... complicate things,' Sherlock gasped out.

'We'll determine what you're actually feeling later. Just kiss me.'

'Can we go further than a kiss?'

'In the morning when everyone's gone. I'm skipping school to look after you.'

'Your classes... They're important. I'm not important.'

'Sherlock, you're the most important person I've met in my entire life. I'll survive one day of missing classes. Besides, it's all review anyway. I know all this shit. And you need me.'

'I do need you. Any ideas about how to stop me from killing myself? Cuz I was damn close today.'

'For humans, yes. Angels, no.' John kissed Sherlock again, tenderly that time. 'For now let's focus on us. Let's strengthen our bond, do that ritual later, and we can talk. Just talk. Hang out and get to know one another. I think that's as good a start as any.'

Sherlock beamed happily and kissed John. 'Gorgeous.'

'So are you,' John grinned. 'Go back to sleep. I'll join you in a moment. Just need to pop off to the loo.'

'Don't you dare bloody cut yourself.'

'Just need to pee. Promise.' He kissed Sherlock again and slid off the bed. 'Be right back.' He went into the bathroom and did indeed just use the loo. He washed his hands before returning and cuddled up to Sherlock again, linking their fingers together.

'See? Back already. Now go to sleep. I'll be here when you wake.'

'I... um–' Sherlock went to say something but bit his tongue to stop himself. 'Night.'

'G'night, Sherlock,' John yawned as he fell into a dreamless sleep, curled up in the arms of his angel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this makes up for that horrible ending last chapter. Next chapter has smut and fluff :)
> 
> I might update this weekend, but if I don't then I'll see you all again Tuesday.
> 
> TSA + IB


	13. Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. I am uploading this during my three-hour Shakespeare class because it's boring and it's just mindless lecture. I usually just write fanfiction in my notes instead of taking notes anyway. I'm probably going to leave early because I haven't eaten a proper meal yet today and I can physically feel my blood sugar dropping. This is something quickly drinking a bottle of water to feign fullness cannot fix.
> 
> This is entirely a Sherlock and John chapter, and you know who's who.
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: talk of self harm, talk of low self worth, talk of smut, blow jobs, nipple stimulation, masturbation, explosive orgasms.

Sherlock slept well that night, truly exhausted. He woke before John and uncurled himself from his arms, kissing his forehead lightly. He crawled from the bed, careful not to wake the sleeping John. He padded to the window in John's room and opened it, clambering onto the ledge. His feathers ruffled as the breeze passed through them. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling utterly at peace.

John began shivering slightly and wrapped his blankets around himself, curling up in a ball. Why was it so cold all of a sudden? He blinked open sleepy eyes and noticed that Sherlock was gone. And it was absolutely freezing in his room.

'Sherlock?' he mumbled, still not really awake.

'Shhh. It's alright. I'm still here.'

'Why's it so cold?' He looked to the window and saw Sherlock sitting in it. 'Sherlock, it's January. In England. It's freezing cold. Why are you sitting in the window?'

'I'm thinking.' Sherlock stood to his feet and closed the window. He personally couldn't feel the cold. His body acted as a furnace. He crawled back onto the bed and wrapped John in his arms. 'I usually think whilst flying. I didn't deem flying wise with the amount of blood I lost.'

'Smart thinking,' John murmured as he huddled into Sherlock's body. He hummed as he began to warm. 'What were you thinking about?'

'Oh, just... stuff. Needed to clear my mind.'

'Private stuff. I get it.' John yawned, warming up and waking slowly. 'What time is it anyway?'

'Early,' Sherlock hummed softly. 'Probably only five in the morning.'

'My alarm goes off in an hour. I need to leave a note for my mum, letting her know I'm staying home today to look after you. She'll understand.'

'And what does looking after me entail? Hmm? Is John Hamish Watson going to treat his angel right?'

'Yes,' John giggled softly. 'But first I just want you to eat something. Toast maybe. You lost a lot of blood and I can't remember the last time you ate. And I know you don't eat a lot. So a piece of toast, then I'll... need to go out for supplies.'

'Mmm. Understood and noted. Oh, Doctor Watson. Fuck me like a wanton whore.'

John flushed a deep red. 'I'm not a doctor yet, Sherlock. And I'm scared as fuck. What if I'm shit at this? I don't want to hurt you.'

'You won't hurt me,' Sherlock assured John. 'And just for this you can be my doctor and I can be your patient. What do you say, Doctor Watson?' He purred the last question.

'Mmm. While I like the sound of that, save the role playing for later. Today is about being gentle. We can be a bit more adventurous later.'

'I have handcuffs.' Sherlock grinned mischievously. 'I'll save those for a later date too.'

'Jesus.' John giggled again and flushed a deep red. 'Did I get the kinky angel?'

'I'm one kinky bastard, yes. I wonder how many kinks we can try out together?'

'And how many kinks do you have? Well, I guess what I  _should_  be asking is what are your kinks?'

'Not sure yet. But I feel like I've got quite a few brewing within me.'

'Well, maybe we'll get a chance for me to discover some kinks as well,' John hummed, burrowing closer.

'You already have a nipple kink,' Sherlock giggled.

'I... I do?'

'From what I've witnessed, yes you do.'

'Hmmm. Well, alright. I should get up and take a shower anyway. There's no way I'll get back to sleep now.'

'May I join you?'

'If you want,' John said softly. 'Though I'd like you to.'

'Oh, I want. I want a lot.'

'OK.' John grinned at him. 'Come on. What are we waiting for?'

Sherlock sprang from the bed, threw his clothes onto the floor and ran naked into the bathroom. John laughed loudly and followed Sherlock into the bathroom, stripping along the way.

'My, my. My angel is eager,' he smiled. 'Go on. Get in and I'll get the water started.'

Sherlock hopped into the shower, practically vibrating with anticipation. John laughed again and turned the water on nice and warm, entering the shower behind Sherlock and hugging him from behind, his wings soft on his cheek. Sherlock grinned and turned around, instantly clamping his mouth around John's nipple.

'Fuck!' John gasped sharply, his knees almost buckling from the sensations travelling straight to his groin. Sherlock sucked on the nipple insistently and growled around it.

'Oh my god! Yes!' John whispered hoarsely, feeling himself hardening as Sherlock continued. 'Fuck! Don't stop!'

Sherlock nipped the nipple experimentally and grabbed John's cock.

'Fuck!' John cried quietly, grasping Sherlock's shoulders tight and hanging on for dear life. 'So good! Don't stop!'

'I've got a better idea.' Sherlock grinned, dropped to his knees, and swallowed John's member whole. John gasped sharply and thrust his hips into Sherlock's mouth, biting his hand to silence his cries. His parents were right next door and he didn't want to wake them by crying Sherlock's name during his climax. Sherlock sucked hard and fast, finding all of John's sensitive spots. John was losing his footing and was slipping down the side of the shower. He was too lost to the pleasure to care. He slid down until he was sat on the floor and Sherlock was on his knees between his legs. Sherlock hollowed out his cheeks and growled. He flicked one of John's nipples and John was cumming in no time.

John bit hard into his hand as he came, muffling his whimpers and cries. When he finished he removed his hand and panted harshly, looking down at Sherlock as he pulled off and licked his lips.

'Fuck,' was all John was able to say.

'Was I that good?' Sherlock laughed loudly.

'First blow job ever,' John panted. 'Course you were that good. I've got nothing to compare it to.'

'Oh.' Sherlock pursed his lips. 'So I could be terrible at it then.'

'Sherlock, if you were terrible at it then I wouldn't have cum,' John pointed out.

'I suppose so,' Sherlock exhaled.

John cleared his throat and stood on shaky legs. 'Come on. Let's get cleaned up and then eat something. Maybe we can catch my mum before she leaves and I can tell her I won't be going to school. She can call the headmaster and make up an excuse.'

'Won't she ask about this?' Sherlock pointed to the deep scar in his neck.

'No. She doesn't like to pry into other people's affairs. She'll ask you things like how you've been and whatnot, but never anything along the lines of how you got a scar. Well, unless it's still bleeding that is. Then her nurses training will kick in.'

'I'm thankful of that.' Sherlock swallowed down hard. 'I think that it would be best to forget yesterday ever happened.'

'Agreed,' John nodded. 'Let's count it as a stepping stone in our relationship and learn from it.'

'Though I cannot promise I won't go down that path again.'

'And I can't promise I'll stop cutting, smoking, and starving myself immediately,' John said softly. 'It'll take time, but we can get through this.'

'I will try my best to stop doing such idiotic things,' Sherlock choked out. 'It's just I felt like I haven't been performing to full capacity. I let you down. You cut your wrists. You nearly suffered an overdose. I called you a stuck up brat. I just–' Sherlock was breaking now. He rubbed at his eyes furiously, trying to stop the tears but failing. 'I can't do anything right! I can't even be your fucking angel. I-I–'

John silenced Sherlock with a gentle kiss, holding his face tenderly. When he pulled away he wiped Sherlock's tears off his cheeks with his thumbs.

'It's OK, Sherlock. We've only just begun. I never expected all the bad things in my life to be fixed instantly. And I didn't cut because of you. I cut because of the bullies. You maybe have made a few mistakes since arriving but learn from them, don't let them destroy you. Once you get a hang of things you'll be a brilliant angel.  _My_  brilliant angel. Now let's clean up and go downstairs, OK?'

'Your brilliant angel.' Sherlock tugged John into a tight hug. 'Yes. I swear I'll try not to be such a fuck up. I'm gonna be the best damn angel that's ever lived.'

'Good. And I'll try not to be such a fuck up,' John agreed, wrapping his arms around Sherlock in a hug. 'Now seriously, let's clean up, get dressed, and go get some food. I'm starving.'

'OK, good looking. Let's get some food in us.'

'Pass me the shampoo, would you?'

Sherlock picked up the bottle of shampoo and sniffed it before passing it to John. 'Mmm. Strawberries.'

'My favourite fruit.' John squirted some shampoo into his palm before setting the bottle down. He started washing his hair and found he had too many bubbles. He looked to Sherlock, who was watching him curiously. 'Want me to put some in your hair? I've got too much.'

'You can wash my wings if you like,' Sherlock said, smiling softly.

'With shampoo like this? Wouldn't you want to use regular soap?'

'I wanna smell like strawberries!'

'OK,' John giggled. 'Turn around and I'll wash your wings.'

Sherlock spun around in one swift moment, his wings spreading out in excitement.

'Eep!' John ducked out of the way as Sherlock spun around, his wings nearly slapping him. 'Easy! Settle down, OK?'

Sherlock made a loud chirping sound. 'Sorry. I just need my wings touched. I just – fuck. I need your hands all over me.'

John grinned and put his shampoo covered hands on Sherlock's feathers, smoothing his fingers over them.

'Still so soft,' he murmured. 'I love your wings.'

'Oooh. A beautiful wing kink to add onto your list.'

'I still say I'm not a Winger, even if I  _am_  fucking an angel,' John mumbled, smoothing his hands over the muscles of Sherlock's wings.

'In which case you're delusional.'

'I'll deny it in front of everyone who asks,' John stated, moving further down Sherlock's wings, smoothing out the ruffled feathers. 'Maybe I'll come to accept it one day.'

'You should. I mean, look at how erotic you're finding my wings right now.'

John looked down and saw he was indeed hard again. He shrugged and continued washing Sherlock's wings.

'I don't know why I like them so much. I mean, they're gorgeous and sleek and so shiny and I just want to touch them all the time because they're so soft and–' He paused. 'I just really like them, OK?'

'God yes!' Sherlock's wings shivered under John's hands, loving the attention. 'I love you touching them. Just you though. Always you. God this feels good.'

John hummed and ran his fingers through Sherlock's feathers, paying special attention to the long ones. They were his favourites. Though the smaller, downy ones were pretty soft too. He wondered if he might be able to stuff a pillow with the down of Sherlock's feathers. It would be another way to stay connected with his angel.

'Mmm. Dear lord. Keep up the good work.' Sherlock pushed back on John's hands. 'I'm so hard.'

'I could fuck you right– Fuck!' John removed his hands from Sherlock's wings and continued swearing, rubbing at his eyes. That only made it worse. 'Fuck! I need water! Got shampoo in my eyes. Fucking burns!'

'Idiot.' Sherlock gave a light chuckle, turning around and helping John rinse the suds from his eyes.

'I seem to do a lot of idiotic things around you,' John mumbled, rinsing the shampoo from his eyes and hair. 'It's like I'm trying to impress you but I end up looking idiotic instead.'

'It's OK. Compared to me everyone is an idiot.'

'Yeah. Genius angel,' John muttered. Once all the shampoo was rinsed from his hair and eyes he turned Sherlock around and began rinsing his wings of the strawberry stuff.

Sherlock hummed and spread his wings out wider. 'You have extremely talented hands.'

'Guess it's a good thing I'm gonna be a doctor, huh?' John smiled softly, smoothing out each feather as it was rinsed of the shampoo. John took a sniff and just about melted. Sherlock's wings smelt heavenly.

Sherlock purred, turned his head and wriggled his eyebrows. 'Hello, Doctor Watson.'

'Still not role playing.' John laughed softly, turning Sherlock's head so it was under the spray of water. 'I'm gonna wash your hair now. You're just gonna smell like strawberries all over.'

'My life dream is to become a strawberry.' Sherlock smirked. 'Cuz then you could pop me in your mouth and swallow me whole.'

John blushed. 'I actually like to cut my strawberries up and put them on toast. And I'd rather not do that to you.' He grabbed the shampoo and poured some onto his hand. He lathered it up and then set to work on washing Sherlock's hair.

'I should hope not! Save eating people for Hannibal, yeah?'

'Yes. Save the cannibalism for Mr Lecter,' John laughed. He began massaging Sherlock's scalp, the shampoo frothing up nicely.

'Mmm. John. You're wonderful at this,' Sherlock sighed in content.

'Thanks,' he said, scrubbing all over Sherlock's head. 'I'm glad you're enjoying it.'

'Can we make this a regular occurrence?'

'Me washing your hair? Sure.' John finished washing and began tilting Sherlock's head back to rinse it out, the smell of strawberries heavy in the air.

Sherlock smiled softly. 'That's good. I want your hands all over me every day.'

'And you'll have all of me later,' John purred.

'Mmm. Good to know,' Sherlock growled back playfully. John laughed softly and pressed a tender kiss between Sherlock's shoulder blades.

'Come on. Let's get dressed and get some food.'

'Have you got anything for me to wear? I can't exactly put the hospital gown back on.'

'Oh. Right. Um... I don't know. Though you may be able to wear some of my baggy pyjama clothes.'

Sherlock nodded his agreement. 'I need help shopping for new clothes soon. Wanna come?'

'Sure!' John grinned, shutting off the water. 'We can go today. Maybe visit the hospital first and get your old clothes so you aren't out in my ill-fitting pyjamas.'

'Mmm true. I would look rather odd.'

'The trousers would be way too short,' John giggled, grabbing a towel and rubbing it over Sherlock's hair. 'You'd look ridiculous.'

'It's not my fault you're a midget.'

'No. It's my mum's side of the DNA.' John pouted, drying his own hair off now. 'Everyone on her side of the family is five foot seven or less. I'm just lucky I made it to the maximum height and not the minimum.'

'It's OK.' Sherlock winked. 'It means you're easier to swallow.' John flushed and felt his cock twitch. He stepped out of the shower and dried the rest of himself off, being mindful of his very erect cock.

'I may need your mouth again before we go downstairs. I'd hate to have to explain to my mum why I'm erect at the table, eating breakfast with my angel.'

'Nope. I'm afraid my mouth is unavailable at this moment in time,' Sherlock smirked.

'Well then you get to watch me take care of this myself,' John smirked right back. 'Here. Dry yourself off and I'll meet you on my bed.' He tossed the towel at Sherlock and strode out of the room, sitting spread eagle on his bed, his cock sticking up like a proper soldier between his legs.

Sherlock dried himself off before moving to watch John, grinning like mad. John smirked and teasingly slid his fingers up his thigh before grasping himself at the base. He hummed and leaned back against the wall, propping his feet on the bed. He licked his palm and then began to stroke himself slowly, twisting slightly around the head before moving back down. Sherlock smirked and filtered lust into the air, turning John into a writhing mess.

'Oh my god,' John groaned, moving his hand faster, panting hard, staring at Sherlock with lustful eyes. 'Fuck. Oh my god. Oh Sherlock. Feels so good. Fuck! Gonna–' He cried out and began cumming, his semen splattering his stomach. He collapsed against his mattress when he finished, staring up at the ceiling, panting hard.

'Yes!' Sherlock cried out. He'd started wanking too and he'd spilled out absolutely everywhere.

'Jesus,' John panted, sitting up slightly. 'Damn. It looks like you exploded.'

'God. I feel like I have.'

'You're gonna need to clean up. Hold on.' John moved back into the bathroom and wet down a flannel. He stumbled out and cleaned himself off before passing it to Sherlock.

'I'm gonna get dressed and try to find something for you to wear. Clean yourself up a bit and anywhere else your cum landed, OK?'

Sherlock dabbed at his cum. It'd landed on himself, the floor, and the bathroom doorway. John pulled on a clean pair of pants, jeans, and a t-shirt. He pulled his favourite cream jumper on over the shirt and then a pair of wool socks. When he was all dressed he turned to Sherlock and saw he was cleaning the bathroom door.

'Jesus. I think you  _did_  explode,' he joked lightly. 'Here. I got you this for the time being.' He held out a pair of pyjama bottoms and a loose t-shirt that was too big for him so it should fit Sherlock fairly well.

Sherlock smiled and took the clothes. 'Ah. Have you any scissors? My wings, you see. I need to make some holes.'

'Yes. On my desk. The pencil case. I keep a pair in there.'

Sherlock flinched. 'Tell me you don't,' he whispered, bottom lip trembling.

'What? No!' John exclaimed. 'Never with scissors. Just the blades. Which I plan on throwing out today.' He moved over to Sherlock and clasped their hands together. 'I promise you that I have never cut myself with scissors and I never will.'

Sherlock smiled weakly and planted a heavy kiss on John's lips. John hummed softly before pulling away.

'Get dressed,' he ordered softly. 'I need food. And so do you.'

Sherlock pulled a face. 'I'll only throw it back up.'

'I won't make you eat a lot. Just a piece of toast. One piece of toast. Please?' John stuck his bottom lip out and gave Sherlock puppy dog eyes.

'Errhh! Fine! One piece of toast.'

John smiled and pecked Sherlock's lips softly. 'Come on. Get dressed. I'll make breakfast.'

Sherlock hurriedly got dressed. He cut two holes in the shirt and buttoned it up, pushing his wings through. It was a little tight on him and the matching trousers were far too short. He looked ridiculous.

'Look at you,' John giggled. 'You look utterly ridiculous.'

Sherlock whined and pouted. 'I could, of course, walk around naked. Angels are allowed to, you know.'

'Yes, but I don't want my angel flaunting himself about. That's for my eyes only,' John stated.

'And I know your eyes like what they see.' Sherlock grinned wickedly at John.

'Oh yes. Very much so. Now get that tight arse of your downstairs.' John gave him a pinch and gently pushed him toward the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is more smut, and maybe I'll post it Thursday. Spring Break is coming up for me, which means I'm halfway done with the semester. 
> 
> Until then,
> 
> TSA + IB


	14. John's "Real" First Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. Apologies for the late update. I took a nap and then had to study for a midterm. I'm taking a break now while watching Thor: The Dark World. I love Loki's snark. XD
> 
> InvisibleBlade: Sherlock  
> Me: John, John's Mum
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: smut, loss of virginity, anal sex, some angst.

Sherlock groaned. 'I'm gonna make breakfast hell for you.' 

'Just don't do it in front of my mum. Now go.' Sherlock wiggled his bum and sashayed down the stairs.

'Oh, you naughty angel.' John smirked and shook his head. He followed Sherlock downstairs and into the kitchen. Mrs Watson was already there. 

'Oh. Hello dears,' she said, smiling softly. 'I thought you were in hospital?' 

'He was, but they allowed him out early,' John lied. 'I wanted to stay home and take care of him today instead of going to school. He's still quite poorly.' 

'Oh. Of course dear.' She looked at Sherlock's clothes. 'Do you want me to pick something up for you while I'm out?' 

'Would you?' Sherlock asked with big, hopeful eyes. 

'Of course, dear,' she said, smiling politely. 'Do you know your sizes? Shirt, trouser, and shoes?' 

Sherlock shook his head. 'I'm afraid I'm still getting used to my vessel, Mrs Watson. I'm OK for shoes. However, I would appreciate it if you just make an observational guess for my trouser and shirt size. I would quite like a scarf too, if that isn't too much trouble.' His fingers almost subconsciously ran over the red raw scar on his neck. 'My brother will send a cheque over as soon as possible to replenish you for the money you spend.' 

'Oh, he doesn't need to do that,' she tutted. 'It's fine. On me. I'll find you something nice, though you don't strike me as the blue jean wearing type.' 

'No, but I'm always willing to try out new things.' He turned around to John, gave him a wink, and turned back to Mrs Watson. 

'OK then. Jonathan, I'll call the school and inform them you'll be staying home today.  _Just_  today, mind you. You go back tomorrow.' 

'Understood,' John said, nodding. 'I'm just gonna have breakfast. You going out?' 

'Yep. Just going to finish my tea and then I'll be on my way.' She took three sips of her tea and stood, her scrubs bright pink today. She kissed John on the cheek and ruffled his hair. 'See you at dinner. Love you.' 

John snickered and fixed his hair. His mum knew how much he hated it when she messed up his hair. 'Love you too. Bye, Mum.' She waved to the two boys and closed the door behind her. 

'Is it just... is it just us now?' 

'Harry's probably out and my father's still asleep. So, yes. It's just us.' 

'Food then sex?' Sherlock asked John with a big grin.  

'Absolutely.' John grinned. 'Toast?' 

'Yes, thanks. Can I have honey on it please?' 

'Honey on toast?' John shrugged and moved to the toaster, popping in two slices of bread. 'OK. Sure. I'm not one to judge.' 

'It's nice. Trust me. It's about the only thing I will eat.' 

'Hmmm. I'll have to try some myself then.' John grinned. 'How toasted do you like it? Barely, medium, or burnt to a crisp?' 

'Erm... medium,' Sherlock said after a while. 

'Right.' John adjusted the temperature on the toaster and turned to Sherlock. 'You OK? You kinda spaced out there for a moment.' 

'Hmm. Yes. I was talking to my brother.' 

'Oh.' John's face fell. 'Does he know about... you know? What we're gonna do? Because I told him I'd put a stop to it.' 

'No. Actually he was telling me something of great interest.' Sherlock ran a hand through his curly locks, mussing them up.  

'Secret angel stuff?' John popped the toast before it burnt and got out two plates, a knife, and the honey pot. 

'You could say that, yeah.' 

'Then I won't ask.' He held a plate up to Sherlock, a piece of toast smothered with honey upon it. 'Here. Eat.' 

Sherlock hummed and took the plate, taking a large bite out of the honey covered toast.  

'He's with a human being.' 

John nearly choked on his bite of toast, which was surprisingly good with honey, coughing harshly.  

'He's  _what?!_ ' he finally managed to ask. 

'He's with a human. In a relationship.' Sherlock frowned. 'Biggest name in the world of angels and he's breaking all the rules.' 

John clamped a hand over his mouth. He wasn't sure if it was in shock or to rein in his laughter. In the end he started laughing anyway. 

'Wait, wait,' he said between laughs. 'So Mycroft, the angel who told me to stop having dream sex with you... is fucking a human  _himself?_ Ha! That's rich! That's just fucking great!' 

'He is only trying to protect me,' Sherlock stated softly. 'He can put himself at risk, but not me.' 

'Oh? So because he's such a bigwig in the angel world he can break the rules without consequence?' John scowled. 'That's completely unfair.' 

'Mmm. It is. Let's fuck and feel better.' 

John grinned wolfishly. 'Let's.' He abandoned the toast on the counter and dragged Sherlock upstairs to his room, locking the door behind them. He pushed his desk in front of the door for good measure and locked his window, closing the blinds. 

'Just taking precautions,' he said. 'Don't want to get caught.' 

Sherlock rushed forward, flinging John onto the bed and pouncing on top of him. 'You have no idea what you're in for.' 

'First off, there is no way you are fucking me with that third leg cock of yours,' John grumbled, trying to flip their positions. 'You can do that in the dream because I always imagine your cock smaller so it'll fit. Second–' He grasped his ratty shirt and ripped it off, buttons flying. '–you have too many clothes on.' 

Sherlock growled and flipped their positions. 'First of all, I am the one in charge in this relationship. Second of all, I believe you'll like my large cock inside of you.' 

'Who said you were in charge?' John scowled. 'I'm the one who's about to fully lose his virginity. You lost yours in my dream. This is my time, so just – erg!' He ripped Sherlock's trousers off and kissed him hard. 'My hormones are fucking raging. I need to fuck you now!' 

'Correction.  _I'm_  going to fuck you,' Sherlock purred, ripping John's clothes off. 'And you're going to let me.' 

'I thought I was gonna fuck you?' John pouted, watching as Sherlock stuck three fingers in his mouth and lathered them with saliva. 

'You'll enjoy this a lot more, believe me.' 

John sighed and rolled over, Sherlock clambered on top of him almost immediately. 

'Do I make your heart race? Do I cause you to feel like a nervous wreck whenever I'm around? Do you feel so loved you feel almost nauseous because of it?' Sherlock kissed John's neck tenderly. 

John shivered and moaned, arching into Sherlock's kisses. 'Yes,' he whispered. 'Oh god yes.' 

'Do you want your angel to make love to you? Or is it a fuck you'll be wanting?' 

'Make love to me, Sherlock,' John whispered, pulling Sherlock close for a passionate kiss. He wrapped his arms around his angel's neck and moaned into the kiss, rubbing his still clothed erection against Sherlock's thigh. 

'No matter what happens, remember this moment, John,' Sherlock whispered. He tugged his human's trousers off in one swift motion and kissed him again. 'Ready?' he asked gently. 

'As I'll ever be,' John whispered, swallowing loudly. 

'It's OK. I'm here. I'm going to take good care of you,' Sherlock reassured John as he began to swirl his fingers around John's entrance. John whimpered and scrunched his eyes shut, not entirely sure he liked the touch in such a weird place. 

'I'm going to need you to relax. I might hurt you if you're so tense.' 

'I'm trying,' John grit out. 'But it's so different from the dream. It's weird.' 

'I will be far more gentle than the dream,' Sherlock said softly as he eased a finger inside. John made an unintelligible noise at the intrusion, clamping down around it to make it stop. He gripped the sheets tight and whimpered. 

'It feels so weird,' he grit out. 'I... I'm scared, Sherlock. What if it hurts? What if I don't like it?' 

'Then I'll stop,' Sherlock promised. 

'I'm still scared,' John swallowed, looking up into his angel's eyes. 'Help me not be scared.' 

'John.' Sherlock frowned. 'If I took away your fear I'd be taking away your free will. I may as well be raping you.' 

'Then... help me calm down. Please. I... I can't calm down.' 

'Alright. Focus on this.' Sherlock leant down and kissed John passionately. John hummed softly and focused on the kiss, beginning to relax. He even went so far as to push back on Sherlock's finger, letting him know it was OK to continue. 

'I've got you. You're OK,' Sherlock smiled against John's lips, pumping his finger in and out. John moaned and shuddered, pushing back on Sherlock's finger. 

'More. Please.' 

'OK.' Sherlock added another finger. 'Is this OK?' 

'Umf! Slow! Slow!' John grabbed Sherlock's wrist and slowed down his movements. 'Just go slow.' 

'OK, love. I'll go nice and slow.' 

'Mmm. Call me that again,' John hummed. 

Sherlock curled his fingers and pushed in deeper. 'My beautiful love. Dear. Darling. Sweetie pie. My chariot.' 

'Oh fuck!' John cried, his back arching against the mattress. 'Fuck! I'd read prostate stimulation was good, but I'd never expected it to be this brilliant. More! Don't stop!' 

Sherlock stretched John and added a third finger. 'How's this, my love?' 

'Tight,' he groaned. 'But I can handle it. Don't stop.' 

'Mmm. Want my beautiful cock yet?' Sherlock purred loudly, stretching John a little wider. 

'Yes! Yes!' John cried, his knees parting wider. 'Bloody take me!' 

'As you wish.' Sherlock laughed, replacing his fingers with his massively engorged prick. 'It's gonna take me a while to push myself the whole way in. Sorry. I'm just too damn big.' 

John gasped and moaned loudly, his hands moving to grip Sherlock's hips tight. 'Just get in me! I need you!' 

'I'm trying!' Sherlock groaned out as he shoved himself the rest of the way in. 'There we are. You're all mine now.' 

John groaned and stilled completely. He felt incredibly full, a very strange feeling but not entirely a bad one. He tried to move but it caused sparks of pleasure/pain to shoot through him. He clutched onto Sherlock tight, his fingers digging into his skin. 

'Go... Go slow,' he choked out. Sherlock nodded, looking down at him sympathetically. He began to move slowly but surely, kissing John all the while. John grunted and groaned, still clutching Sherlock tight, bruises forming slowly. He slowly began to relax and Sherlock was able to move more, a little faster, a little harder. Now John was grunting and groaning for an entirely different reason, his cock hard against his belly. 

'Not gonna last,' he gasped out, his cock bouncing as Sherlock moved. 'Touch me. Please.' 

Sherlock grasped John's cock and moved his hand up and down in time with his thrusts. John gasped and flopped back against his mattress, rocking against Sherlock in time with his thrusts, sliding his cock through his fist. He was shaking and whimpering in no time, Sherlock's name on his lips as he came with a groan, splattering his stomach with his cum. Sherlock whimpered loudly, burying his face in John's neck.  

'John,' he whispered as he came long and hard within him. John's body twitched with aftershocks of pleasure, his hands tangled in Sherlock's hair. He blinked his eyes open and stared at the ceiling, panting hard.  

'Holy shit.' 

'Language,' Sherlock laughed. 'You're in the presence of an angel.' 

'You're an atheist. I can swear around you,' John giggled. 

'Shhh. Don't say that.' Sherlock looked around nervously. 'God might hear you.' 

John laughed again and kissed Sherlock softly. 

'God,' Sherlock breathed. 'I've fallen for you, John.' 

'You sure?' John whispered. 'I don't even know what love feels like.' 

'I think it feels like what we've got together.' Sherlock smiled and kissed John's neck. 

'Mmm. I do like what we have,' John hummed, tilting his head back so Sherlock could reach more of his neck. 

'It's possible to love someone without knowing everything about them, John.' 

'Yes, I know. I just... how do you know that it's love? What if it's just infatuation?' 

'Because I just know, John. It's a gut feeling. I love you. You're beautiful.' Sherlock cupped John's face gently. 'Believe me. Please?' 

'I believe you. I do. I just don't think what I feel for you is love. I have no idea what I'm feeling. But... it's a nice feeling at the very least.' 

'It's... It's OK.' Sherlock smiled weakly. 'I really don't expect anyone to fall in love with me.' 

'Perhaps one day,' John murmured, turning to capture Sherlock's lips in a tender kiss. 'I could come to love you. I mean, I already love you because you're my angel, but maybe it could develop into being  _in_  love with you. There is a difference.' 

'Don't be ridiculous. What would come of loving me? It would only cause pain.' 

'You don't want me to love you?' John asked, raising an eyebrow. 'Sherlock, everyone deserves to be loved.' He lowered his voice slightly. 'Even atheist angels.' 

'I... I need to think.' Sherlock disappeared in a blast of white light. 

John was left alone in his room, naked, and feeling very empty. He sighed and pulled on a pair of pyjama trousers and a t-shirt. He moved his desk back to its original place and went downstairs, throwing away the toast and making himself a cup of tea. 

_Why is Sherlock always disappearing? I don't like it. It makes me feel... inadequate. Like I'm not good enough company or something so Sherlock has to leave to find someone more intelligent to talk to. Oh. That's it, isn't it? Sherlock goes to his brother to discuss what to do with me. Am I that bad of a human? Or am I too complicated for Sherlock to handle? He did say I was something of a mystery when we first met, that he wanted to understand me better. Ugh! Where the hell did he go? Fuck. I miss him already._

**...::-::...**  

Sherlock settled on a park bench, cupping his hands underneath his chin. It was quiet here. Quiet was good. It meant he could think. He had an awful lot to think about.  
  
 _I, Sherlock Holmes, have fallen in love. With a human no less. I know it's love. It has to be! Every time I see him he makes my heart beat a little faster. He makes me question myself. No one else has been able to do that, ever. I love John's laugh. It's a pleasant sound. It's bubbly and full of life and made his eyes crinkle at the corners. Mmm. Those beautiful blue eyes that seemed to sparkle._  

Oh dear lord. He'd fallen and he'd fallen hard. He'd slept with John. Both in his dreams and more recently in real life. What the hell did he do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, next chapter is when the rape and Mpreg come into play. I'll put a warning into the fic when the rape scene starts for those of you who don't want to read about it. I'll also let you know when it's over. But yes. Rape and Mpreg next chapter just so everyone's aware.
> 
> Until next time,
> 
> TSA + IB


	15. Everything Turns to Shit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. It is the day before Saint Patrick's Day here in America. I am posting this today as I plan on going out drinking tomorrow after I get out of my classes and I might be hungover Tuesday morning. So here's the next chapter ahead of time. If my head isn't killing me on Tuesday I'll post the next chapter later that afternoon. Or Wednesday sometime. 
> 
> For those who don't know, InvisibleBlade and I haven't been able to contact each other much over the past two weeks as the wifi in her area has been cut for some strange reason or other. She and I have been chatting via Facebook through one of her friend's accounts, but we haven't been able to RP very often. She was able to email me a couple of days ago, but we only got a few messages in before the available 3G on her phone was spent. I have unlimited 3G/4G on my phone and I always find it weird when people have limited Internet access that they pay for. How do you live on limited Internet?
> 
> And for those of you who are wondering about when the sequel to FT&PD will be posted... I don't know. IB and I haven't been able to discuss it and we haven't even picked out a title for it yet either. We're thinking of sticking to the Peter Pan theme, but we haven't been able to agree on anything yet. If you want to know when I post the new story I suggest following me as an author versus the story as that won't be updated. So as soon as it's posted you'll get a nice little email alert and your day will be made awesome ;)
> 
> InvisibleBlade: Sherlock, Mycroft  
> Me: John
> 
> Trigger Warnings for this chapter: cutting, rape (it is labeled accordingly for those who don't want to read the rape scene)
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: smut, anal sex, having sex when they probably shouldn't be, allergic reaction and administration of "epinephrine", mpreg.

When Sherlock didn't return for almost an hour John decided he should at least get dressed and go out. Sherlock needed clothes, and his mum would probably only buy him one shirt and a pair of trousers. If she remembered at all that is. She worked hard and sometimes forgot, so John decided he would go out and get Sherlock some clothes and maybe pick up some lube. God. He was actually gonna buy lube. He shook that thought away and got dressed, going back downstairs to just eat a piece of bread, and headed out, his wallet and mobile in his coat pocket. 

**...::-::...**

Sherlock returned to John's house to find him already gone. With a heavy, boredom filled sigh, he tried to ignore the pulling sensation at the sight of the blades. It had felt incredible last time. The slicing sensation of the blade on his skin. All that pain. Being able to feel something. He edged forward and grabbed the box of blades.

_I should definitely stop. After what happened last time of course I should. But I'm not going to, am I?_

Sherlock was more careful this time. He slunk to the back of the house and crouched in the shadows. He cut the bond and raised the blade to his wrist. Boredom and being alone was a very dangerous thing for an angel like Sherlock.

**...::-::...**

John poked around Tesco's, grabbing some button up shirts, trousers, and some casual t-shirts. He hummed in thought. This would be a lot easier if Sherlock was with him. He asked the shop attendant to hold onto his items for him. The man nodded and wrapped them all up with John's name on the package. John returned home, trying to somehow signal Sherlock to come find him, but nothing happened. Oh no. Had he blocked the bond again? He ran home and barged inside, taking the stairs two at a time until he was at his bedroom door. He entered but his room was dark, he flicked on the light and gasped when he found Sherlock in the corner, a blade between his fingers and fresh cuts on his arm.

'Sherlock!' he cried, rushing over to him. 'Stop! What do you think you're doing?!' He took the blade and tossed it across the room, hugging Sherlock tight. 'Don't do that. Please. No more. I'm getting rid of them today. No more cutting. Please.'

'I was bored,' Sherlock whispered in a small voice. 'I didn't know where you were. And– what the fuck is wrong with me?! Fuck. John. I need help! I need you!'

'I'm here now,' John said softly, pulling Sherlock onto his lap. 'I was out shopping, looking at clothes for you. But something didn't feel right so I came back.'

'I made a promise to stop. Why did I do it again? I don't understand.'

'The feeling of cutting is addictive, Sherlock. It allows you to feel something or nothing at all. You say you did it because you were bored. I think you did it because you couldn't stop thinking and the cutting helped quiet your thoughts.'

Sherlock gazed up at John's eyes and kissed his jaw. 'I was thinking about us and how this can't possibly last. How you make my heart beat erratically. And just how much I think I really do love you.'

'I don't expect this to last either, but we can enjoy it while it does.' John hummed softly. 'Try not to be so pessimistic, be a little more optimistic, and live in the moment. OK?'

'I can't think positively. I'm a negative kind of angel. I just – don't want to lose you.'

'Sherlock, unless someone kills me, I'm not going anywhere. I'm always going to be here and you'll always have me. You're my angel, and I'm your human. And we just happen to be sort of lovers. Now shut up and kiss me.'

Sherlock kissed John softly and languidly. His lips then moved to John's throat and he bit down hard. 

'Mine,' he growled. 'All mine.'

'Yes,' John moaned, shivering in pleasure. 'All yours.'

Something strange began to happen to Sherlock, though he was completely oblivious to it. His skin was starting to glow, his eyes turning completely black, a thin sheen of sweat glimmered over his skin. 

'Mine!' he growled and sunk his teeth in deeper, his huge wings spreading out impressively. 'Mine! Mine! All mine! Mine forever! No one else's!' He nipped and bit and sniffed John everywhere, his body glowing brighter all the while. He grabbed John by the wrists and dragged him upwards and up onto the bed, pinning him there. 

****WARNING. RAPE SCENE AHEAD. SKIP TO THE NEXT BOLD LINE IF YOU DON'T WANT TO READ A RAPE SCENE. IT'S A SHORT GAP.** **

'Mine forever! Yes! I'll make sure of that!'

'Sherlock?!' John cried, struggling in his grip. 'Sherlock! Sherlock, stop! I don't like this! What are you doing?! STOP!'

'No! Not till you're mine forever!' Sherlock pulled his trousers down and tugged John's down too. He pinned John down more firmly and shoved his prick into him. He thrust hard and deep, his body glowing brighter and brighter. 'Ah! Yes! Fuck! Mine!'

John sobbed loudly, his hands pushing Sherlock away as best he could. Sherlock was raping him, it hurt so bad, he wanted it to stop. His hands scrabbled around for something to grab, found the lamp, and thwacked it over Sherlock's head, the bulb shattering.

'Big mistake!' Sherlock snapped, grabbing John's wrists and thrusting even harder. He was so close now. 'Ah! God yes! You're almost mine forever!' He screamed as he came, snapping his hips forward harshly. The light from Sherlock's body began to filter into John and Sherlock collapsed on top of him, still inside of him. John didn't cum, he hadn't even gotten erect. He sobbed loudly as Sherlock finally came down from whatever had possessed him, tossing the lamp onto the floor with a loud crash.

'Get out of me,' he choked out weakly. 'Now. Get out. Go away, I don't want you here! Get away from me!' Now he was screaming, pushing and shoving until Sherlock fell onto the floor with a thud. 'I hate you! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!'

'John?' Sherlock questioned, his brow knitting together, seeing John for the first time. 

'Get away from me!' John screeched. 'Fucking psycho! What the fuck was that?! You fucking raped me! And what the fuck kind of light did I absorb?! What was that?!'

'I what?!' Sherlock scrambled to his feet. 'Oh god. This isn't good at all. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I– Google angel– angel mating rituals. Oh fuck! Bollocks!' He closed his eyes and disappeared in his usual fashion.

'Fuck you!' John cried to thin air, turning to sob into his pillow. Fuck the Googling. He wasn't going to do anything Sherlock asked. Not anymore.

**RAPE SCENE END. YOU MAY CONTINUE READING AT YOUR LEISURE.**

'I warned you. You should have stopped things before they got so far.'

'Go away!' he screeched at Mycoft, pulling his pillow over his head to drown him out. He was still trembling, still so very afraid and angry, and he was pretty sure his arse was bleeding too. 'I should have listened but I couldn't– I couldn't hurt him like that. He's too vulnerable and– I hate him. What did he do to me?'

Mycroft knelt down by the young human and looked on at him softly. 'He claimed you as his.'

John whimpered pitifully and turned to look at the angel. 'What does that even mean? I am his? I'm not his property! He doesn't  _own_  me!'

'He wouldn't have even been aware that he was doing it. It's an instinct. It usually occurs with other angels. It's common with our family. It's a way of carrying on our strong bloodline. My brother has fallen for you. He loves you dearly. His instincts have taken over and you are and always will be his. Was he glowing yellow or red? It's important. If he was glowing red then he wasn't just claiming you. He was... mating you.'

'I... I don't know.' John swallowed. 'I wasn't paying much attention. And I couldn't really see as I was crying too damn hard!'

'You'll need to go to hospital in about a week,' Mycroft said gently. 'To check. And... Sherlock should come with you. John, he really had no control over what he was doing. He cares for you a lot.'

'Check? Check for what? Are... Are you saying Sherlock can impregnate me?! Am I pregnant?!'

'Don't panic. It's only a minor possibility. But it's one we must consider. It can easily be dealt with if it is the case.'

'Don't panic? Don't panic?! I could be pregnant with an angel baby! I'm a guy! How the fuck is that even possible?!'

'You saw the light. It went into you, yes? If it was yellow it was merely him marking you with his scent. If it was red then it creates a womb and a baby. It is in our biology. Did you not do your research?'

'I didn't see the fucking light!' John screamed. 'I was sobbing and I had my eyes closed! And I've done  _some_  research about you guys, but I have yet to get to the rituals you guys have.'

'I'll make a hospital appointment for you. John, do forgive Sherlock. In our culture it's a sign of adoration. He's probably just as scared as you.'

'He ran away from me! He didn't even take responsibility for his actions!'

'He didn't remember what happened. All he knew was that he'd hurt you and you wanted him to leave. He's terrified and he thinks you hate him.'

'I hate him right now,' John huffed. 'If that bastard got me pregnant I swear to god–' He sighed loudly. 'I don't know what I'll do. I might keep it. The baby. I mean, it's mine and his. I don't know. Just find him, would you?'

'I'll try my very best. Please go easy on him when I bring him back.'

'Yeah. OK.' John turned over and wrapped himself up in his blankets, huddling into them against the shivers still wracking his body.

Mycroft found his brother in little to no time crying in a curled up ball. 

'Oh, Sherlock. What have you gone and done?'

'I hurt John! I raped him!' Sherlock screamed at the top of his lungs.

'You mated him. There is a difference,' Mycroft said softly, kneeling down by his brother. 

'M-mated him?' Sherlock stammered in disbelief.

'You definitely claimed him. Whether you procreated with him is another thing entirely. You need to go to him.'

'No!'

'Yes!' Mycroft grabbed Sherlock and transported him back to John's bedroom. Sherlock landed on the floor with a startled sob, trembling like a leaf.

'Sherlock?' John turned over and saw the trembling ball of angel on his floor. He rushed over to him and clambered onto his lap, hugging him tight.

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry,' he apologised repeatedly.

'Why are you apologising? I raped you! I should be the one saying sorry!' Sherlock clutched John tightly, afraid to let go.

'I know, and you can later, but I just want you to know that I don't hate you. I don't. I... I care about you. A lot.'

Mycroft coughed awkwardly. 'I hate to break up the happy party but I have arranged a hospital appointment for John. Ten pm sharp on Monday.'

'And if I am... you know,' John swallowed. 'What happens to me if I decide to keep it?'

'You will have to go into hiding for twelve months. Angel pregnancies are longer than humans. There will be complications. There has never been a human-angel hybrid before. Then we would have to decide what to do with the child once he or she is surgically removed.' Mycroft sniffed the air pointedly. 'I would advise a termination.'

John swallowed and nodded. 'But if I did keep it, if I am, you know... Would I be a social outcast? Would people try to kill me?'

'First human male pregnancy?' Mycroft raised an eyebrow. 'Of course you'd be an outcast. But Sherlock won't allow anyone to come anywhere near you.' Sherlock growled in agreement and hugged John tighter.

'If I am... pregnant,' John choked out, swallowing thickly, 'would you want me to keep it?' He looked at Sherlock, hoping he wasn't trying to lead him on to any specific answer. He wasn't even sure what he would do himself.

'I'd respect your decision either way.' Sherlock took a deep breath. 'I won't judge you just because you got rid of the bloody thing.'

'But you'd be disappointed.' John's brow creased. 'Because you want me all for yourself and a baby would make me yours forever.'

'I – no. That would be selfish of me.' Sherlock kissed John's jaw lightly. 'I had no control before. I do now. You don't want to be mine, not forever. And that's OK.'

'Minds change,' John mumbled, tilting his head up so Sherlock could nip more of his jaw. 'But I don't really want to be a father at seventeen. So, if I am with child, I'll terminate the pregnancy. What will the doctor even say? Will he or she tell?'

'We'll get a private doctor. All very hush-hush. Right Mycroft?'  
Mycroft nodded. 'It is all arranged.'

'OK. Can we... Can we go out shopping and pretend we're normal and not so fucked up? I could use a walk.'

'Of course. We can do that.' Sherlock kissed John softly.   
'I shall leave you two to it then.' Mycroft left hurriedly.

'You still need clothes,' John hummed through the kiss. 'And I don't have a lot of money. Though I have a few selections reserved at the local Tesco's of you want to try those on. Though I feel like going to a mall might be better. More selections.'

'OK. We'll go to a mall. But can I get some food into you first? Please?' Sherlock hugged John even more protectively.

'I... Yeah. I should probably eat. Though it might not be much. I did just go through a traumatic experience.'

Sherlock looked away in shame. 'I'm... I'm so sorry. I didn't – I'd never – not willingly, you know?'

'Mycroft said it was instinct because you love me,' John said softly, holding Sherlock's head in his hands. 'That you couldn't help it, didn't know what you were doing. Just... if we do end up together forever and decide to have a kid, mate me when you have my consent, OK?'

'I don't choose when I go into heat, John,' Sherlock said sadly. 'Besides, why are you even considering a family with me?'

'Heat? Is that what that was?' John cocked an eyebrow. 'Is this one of those things I'm gonna have to deal with every month?'

'I'll have to get myself on meds. They'll make me super sleepy and loopy in the head but they'll stop the cycle,' Sherlock sighed, running a hand down his face.

'Like suppressants? Sherlock, if they're gonna dampen your powers I don't want you to take them. Can't you just go back to heaven and fuck an angel when you feel like you're going into heat?' He suddenly remembered the other part of Sherlock's question and blushed.

'I don't think I was asking to start a family with you– Oh, wait, I was. Just, forget what I said. I'm not thinking and I'm hungry.'

Sherlock shook his head and ran a hand through his locks. 'It's not as simple as that. There has to be a deep emotional bond for me to mate with someone. And... err... I really wouldn't complain about having a family with you.'

'We can talk about that later.' John blushed. 'But I really need food. I can feel my blood sugar dropping by the second.'

Sherlock shot to his feet and dashed downstairs, grabbing some crisps and making a cheese and onion sandwich before racing back to John and handing him the plate, watching him nervously. John accepted the food gratefully and bit into the sandwich, humming at the taste. 

'So good,' he said through a mouthful of food. 'What's in this?'

'Cheese and onion,' Sherlock answered, gazing at him warily.

'Onion?!' John spat out what was in his mouth and his hands grabbed at his throat, feeling it tightening up already. 'Allergic to onions. Sherlock. Help!' He looked at Sherlock with panic in his eyes. He hadn't had an allergic episode in years, so his family had gotten rid of the epinephrine pens. Now he desperately needed one but couldn't speak, his allergic reaction acting quickly. He just hoped Sherlock would know what to do.

Sherlock reacted instantly, pinning John down and kissing him forcefully, a puff of golden light traveling from his lips and down John's throat, effectively working a cure for the allergic reaction. He pulled back and grasped John tightly, a protective hand settling on his stomach, taking deep breaths of the scent on John's skin. 

'Are you OK? Please tell me you're OK. I'm so sorry! I really am! Oh god. Don't be angry. Did you sustain any damage?!' Sherlock was getting more and more anxious. Unusually so.

'I'm fine,' John gasped, staring up at the ceiling, panting hard. 'I'm fine. Thank you.'

'No you're not!' Sherlock panicked, picking John up and carrying him to bed. 'Oh god. I'm not letting you out of my sight. Gotta look after you. Gotta make sure you're OK. Be OK!'

'Sherlock, you're blowing this completely out of proportion,' John huffed, pushing him away. 'I'm  _fine_. Look.' He stood up and spun around. 'See? No harm, no foul.'

'Lie down!' Sherlock yelled, body shaking, tears in his eyes. 'Please. Lie down. I– I'd feel better if you'd just lie down.' He whimpered and whined. 'P-p-please?'

'Sherlock, you are being way too overprotective. What's got your knickers in a twist?' He suddenly remembered feeling Sherlock's hand on his stomach and he paled. 'Did you sense something in there? Am I– Did you–?' He couldn't finish his thought.

'No, just – I don't know – please lay down.' Sherlock swallowed and patted the space beside him.

'Sherlock, please. You're worrying me.' John still didn't sit down, didn't even move toward the bed. 'I just need proper food. I'm going to the kitchen.' He pulled his pants and trousers back on and went downstairs, making himself a proper sandwich, being sure to avoid the onions. Sherlock raced after him, heart beating irregularly. He watched John warily, completely alert for any possible signs of danger.

'Oh my god, Sherlock, relax!' John sighed loudly, slathering his sandwich with mayonnaise. 'Is this a side effect of whatever the hell happened between us?'

'Possibly. I don't like it.' Sherlock whimpered. 'I feel really anxious about everything.'

'Do you have any methods to help you calm down?' John asked, layering lettuce, tomatoes, deli meat, and bacon on his sandwich. He put the top slice of bread on and pushed down, crunching everything together. 'I go for walks, for example. Or take a shower.'

'No. I– I'm gonna throw up.' Sherlock legged it upstairs to John's bathroom, barely making it in time.

John sighed and rolled his eyes. He took a big bite of his sandwich and hummed. He'd forgotten how good food was. He ate it quickly and then drank a glass of water. He grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and ate that as well, tossing the core in the bin before going back upstairs.

'Sherlock? You OK?' He knocked on the bathroom door, his brows creased in concern. 'You've been in there a while. Can I come in?'

Sherlock was far from OK. He'd thrown up violently and was currently sweating like a pig and shaking with tremor after tremor of anxiety.

'Sherlock?' John tried the door. It was unlocked. He entered slowly and he frowned when he saw Sherlock curled up in a ball on the floor. He sighed and knelt down by him, placing the back of his hand on Sherlock's forehead, checking his temperature.

'Sherlock, I'm not apologising for eating. I needed to eat. Would it make you feel better if I lied down and you curled possessively around me?'

Sherlock nodded and growled at John, his wings hovering over him defensively. 'John,' he wheezed. 'My John.'

'OK. Up.' John pulled Sherlock into a sitting position and then helped him stand. 'Now if you don't mind, I want to get comfortable. I will be changing into a sleep shirt and some pyjama trousers. Please do not hover over me while I change.'

He stalked off to his wardrobe and pulled out a fresh sleep shirt and trousers. He stripped out of his clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor, and got into his comfy ones. Once he'd tied the drawstring on his trousers he clambered into bed and waited for Sherlock to join him. Sherlock dove onto the bed, his body pushing against John's instantly, his wings and arms wrapping around him. He growled down John's ear and held him tightly but carefully, his hands moving along John's body and hovering over his stomach.

There was the bloody hand again. 'Sherlock... Please. If I'm... pregnant... tell me. I think I have a right to know.'

'I'm not a doctor, John,' Sherlock huffed, rubbing soothing circles on John's stomach. 'But why else would instinct be telling me to act like this?'

'Surely your angel powers can tell if I have another being inside me,' John huffed. 'Can you stop touching it? It's making me uncomfortable.'

'No. I can't. For both requests.' Sherlock's hands splayed out wider over the expanse of soft flesh.

'What am I gonna tell my mum when she sees you being all possessive like this?' John sighed loudly. 'Fuck my life.'

'That I am being your guardian angel,' Sherlock mumbled. 'Or that you're up the duff, but I doubt she'd believe you.'

John huffed but held his tongue. If he was indeed up the duff, knocked up, whatever, he had to get rid of it. There was no way he was keeping it if Sherlock would be super possessive and hovering over him every second of every day. Sherlock snarled, almost sensing what John was thinking. He nipped at John's neck possessively and held him tighter.

'Sherlock,' John huffed, pushing him away slightly. 'Stop. Please. I don't like this at all. If I've been impregnated by you then I'm getting rid of it. End of story. I am not going to be a father at seventeen. And definitely not the first male to birth an angel-human hybrid baby. I am not ready for that level of commitment, nor do I want to be competently shunned by society. Do you really want that for me simply so you can have something that ties me to you forever?'

Sherlock whimpered and shook his head. 'But – it's a life. It's precious. John, I– Fine. Kill the bloody thing.'

'It isn't even alive yet!' John protested. 'It's– so I am then? Is that what you're saying? You have impregnated me with an angel baby?'

Sherlock grunted and turned around. 'I believe so, yes.'

'Oh my god.' John began hyperventilating, his vision blurry. 'Oh my god. You got me pregnant. Oh my god. No. This isn't happening. This isn't happening. Oh my god this is happening! Oh my god!' John clutched his head in his hands and curled into the fetal position, rocking slightly. 'No. No. This isn't happening. I'm not pregnant with an angel rape baby. Oh god. I'm gonna be sick.'

'I didn't–' Sherlock's head snapped up and he sighed. 'It's fine. It can be removed. After all, as you've already pointed out, it isn't really alive yet. Just a bunch of meaningless cells. Please calm down.' He kissed John softly. 'Please?'

'How can I calm down?! I'm pregnant!' John cried.

'Something which is easily dealt with!' Sherlock bit back. 'Now relax.'

'This is your fault!' John growled. 'Oh my god. I'm hormonal already! Fuck me!' He grabbed Sherlock close and sealed their lips together, pulling him on top of him until he was nestled between his legs. He rocked up and moaned loudly, his cock already hard.

'Fuck me before I change my mind!' he growled, sucking Sherlock's fingers into his mouth and coating them liberally with his saliva. 'Fuck me! Please! God, fuck! I need you!'

'Gah!' Sherlock cried out. 'Are you... sure? I– oh! This feels bloody fantastic!'

'Oh my god, yes!' John cried, easing Sherlock's fingers inside. 'Oh fuck, baby! Yes! Fuck me! Fuck me hard!'

Sherlock didn't need to be told twice. He was quick to prepare John and even quicker to push his member inside. 'Are you mine, John? Forever and ever?

'Yes! Forever! Just fuck me! Please! Oh god! I need to cum so bloody bad.'

Sherlock began moving hard and fast, growling and grunting. He squeezed John's bollocks and ran his hand down his full length. 

'Fuck! Close!'

'Cumming!' John cried, arching off the bed as he came hard, his entire body trembling with the force of it.

'Me too! Fuck!' Sherlock slammed himself into John hard and came. John pulled Sherlock down for a searing kiss, his tongue delving inside his mouth and down his throat. He rocked back against his angel's prick, begging for more.

'Don't stop. Still want you. Please.'

Sherlock hummed and picked up his pace again. 'What brought this on? Are you really feeling hormonal?'

'Yes, oooh. That's good,' John moaned, his hands clutching Sherlock's biceps tight. 'I-I think I may have blown it a bit out of proportion. Like your protectiveness. Now that I realise I'm... pregnant, I'm gonna think every little thing I feel is because of hormones, magnified ten fold because of the being inside me. Fuck! Right there! Fuck!'

'Do you feel OK though?' Sherlock asked, moving his hips in slow, circular movements. 'You don't feel strange? Like your body is trying to change because of the intrusion? I've heard it makes you feel a little ill in most angel cases. But you're human so... I don't  know. And I was not blowing my protectiveness out of proportion, not when you're carrying such precious cargo.'

'All I can feel right now is your cock,' John groaned, his hands sliding down to squeeze Sherlock's bum and pull him in deeper. 'Ask me again when I'm not in the throes of passion.'

'Mmmf. Tell me if you feel anything other than very well fucked,' Sherlock groaned out as he began picking up his speed.

'Yes – god – promise – fuck!' John cried, tilting his hips up slightly so Sherlock could fuck him deeper. 'Just fuck me. Fuck me!'

'God – I'm – Fuck – cumming!' It hadn't taken Sherlock long to find his second release, his cock still highly sensitive.

John whimpered as he felt Sherlock softening inside him. 'Sherlock, love, please. I need to cum so bad. Suck me off. Swallow me, all of me. Please.'

'I – yes OK.' Sherlock pulled out of John and crawled down John's body, swallowing him whole. John gasped sharply and tangled his hands in Sherlock's hair, pushing him down to swallow him more.

'Oh my god! You have such a beautiful mouth! Oh god! Gonna– fuck!' He came with a shout and collapsed against the mattress, a satisfied grin plastered on his face.

'Glad to hear it.' Sherlock swallowed and licked his lips before clambering on top of John protectively.

John hummed softly and snuggled against Sherlock, feeling quite sated and well fucked. His eyes fluttered shut as he neared sleep. He rubbed his nose against Sherlock's chest and sighed in content.

'Love you,' he mumbled as he drifted off to sleep.

'You– you do?' Sherlock gasped but John was already fast asleep. Feeling quite confused Sherlock hugged John tightly to him and watched him carefully for hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here comes the mpreg. John is not a very happy pregnant teenager, but he starts to like it eventually. It just takes a while.
> 
> Next chapter sometime this week, but I'm not sure when.
> 
> Happy Saint Patrick's Day!
> 
> TSA + IB (still without Internet)


	16. Up the Duff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Happy Wednesday!
> 
> Good news! InvisibleBlade's wifi has been fixed! *throws confetti and does a happy dance* She and I will start discussing what we'll be doing about the sequel to FT&PD soon. I'll let you all know what we'll be doing as soon as I know.
> 
> It has been a drizzly, cloudy, dreary day today, and it just zapped all my energy. I'm planning on taking a nap after I publish this. Then I have some reading to do for my fiction class. Just thought you guys would like to know :)
> 
> InvisibleBlade: Sherlock  
> Me: John and John's father
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: talk of abortion, some mild angst, fluff, smut, anal sex, John stuffs his face with food, a bit of food-related porn, more sex.
> 
> (3-19) EDIT: It has come to my attention that the scene where John and Sherlock are in the bath suddenly skips drastically to them talking about kinks and John's keeping the baby. Something went wrong when I copied and pasted the text here as well as on ff.net. InvisibleBlade and I are working on filling the gap and will hopefully have it fixed withing the next few days.
> 
> (3-26) EDIT: The gaps have been fixed (hopefully). And a new chapter will be posted later today as well.

John slept peacefully and dreamlessly for hours. When he woke it was mid afternoon. He groaned and turned over, feeling slightly nauseous.

'Sh'lock?' he mumbled.

'Morning.' Sherlock smiled gently, caressing John's face with his fingertips. 'Feeling a little under the weather?'

'A little nauseous,' John mumbled, pressing closer to Sherlock's tender touches.

'Perfectly normal for this situation. Your body is just kicking up a fuss because of the, err... you know. Shall I get you a bucket?'

'Just take me into the bathroom,' John groaned. 'I wanna take a bath.'

Sherlock gently hauled John into his arms and carried him to the bathroom, placing him on the floor near the toilet in case he really did need to throw up. He moved to the bath and turned on the warm water tap.

'Can I have bubbles?' John asked, huddling over the toilet as his stomach gave a lurch. Sherlock smiled and added some strawberry scented bubbles. He added some cold water to the bath to make sure it wasn't scalding hot and moved to crouch beside John.

'John, I've been thinking...' He sighed. 'Never mind. Silly of me I suppose.'

'Thinking about what?' John asked, still huddled over the toilet. 'You can tell me. I won't judge.'

'I shall discuss it with you once you feel a little less nauseous.' Sherlock rubbed soothing circles on John's back.

'OK. Help me into the bath?'

Sherlock helped John up and into the bath before clambering in himself from behind. He wrapped his arms around John and kissed his neck tenderly. John hummed and settled in the warm water, the strawberry bubbles smelling divine.

'Thanks for taking care of me,' he murmured, settling his head on Sherlock's shoulder.

'It's the least I can do,' Sherlock murmured in John's ear. 'I mean hurt you.'

'And got me pregnant. Don't forget that bit.' John looked down at his stomach, still flat and toned, and frowned.

'And got you pregnant.' Sherlock sighed and shifted nervously behind John. 'I really need to talk to you about that.' His hands moved under the water and splayed over John's stomach. 'Please hear me out.'

'I will listen to your opinion, but the decision whether to keep it or not is inherently my own,' John huffed. 'Go ahead and make your case.'

'There are other options here than keeping it and not keeping it.' Sherlock took a deep breath. 'You could carry it to full term and my brother would raise them as his own. I have discussed this with my brother. He has agreed. Because if you were to decide on a termination, John. It would be murder. Plain and simple. Whatever you say about it not being alive yet John... it's a lie. It's very much alive. I can feel it, John. I can feel it!' Sherlock rested his head on John's. 'I am opening up a link. You should be able to feel what I do. There. Tell me that it isn't alive now?'

John gasped softly and swallowed thickly, tears in his eyes. He splayed a hand over Sherlock's on his belly and whimpered.

'I... I can't. Sherlock, I can't do this. I'm only seventeen! I still have my whole life ahead of me! I can't keep this baby! I just– I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, but I can't.'

'Your life will be here after twelve months, John. It isn't uncommon for teenagers to take gap years to go travelling whilst being educated. We can say you're going travelling. That way you can leave home and Mycroft will take us to a safe house. No questions asked. No being shunned by society. You'll carry the child and then, when the time comes, it will be removed by C-section. Then you can go back to learning to become a doctor. You won't ever have to look back. I just... I don't want this child to suffer before it's even begun.'

John choked out a sob and nodded before he could think about what he was doing, what he was about to get himself into. He turned around in Sherlock's lap and straddled him, hugging him close.

'I love you,' Sherlock murmured, twisting his hands in John's blonde hair and kissing him. 'And I respect you so much for what you're doing. You're being extremely brave.'

'I'm scared as hell,' John mumbled into the kiss. 'I don't know what the fuck I'm gonna do. I'm scared, Sherlock. Really scared. Help me not be scared.'

Sherlock wrapped his wings around John and tugged his body as close as possible. He emitted a calming feeling and he instantly felt John relax. 'It'll be OK. You're gonna do great. This is a journey we'll take together, OK? I'm here for you. Sherlock's here.'

'OK. We're gonna be OK.' He kissed Sherlock softly, sucking on his bottom lip. 'I love you.'

'Really?' Sherlock asked softly. 'Do you love me or are you in love with me?'

'I don't know,' John admitted truthfully. 'I just know that I love you. Maybe it's the hormones talking. God, I'm starving.'

Sherlock grinned widely. John loved him and that was good enough for him. 'I'll get you some food in a bit. I'm not at all surprised you're starving. Do you know how much an angel baby needs to grow? An awful bloody lot is the answer.'

'Mycroft said I'd be pregnant for a year. If I'm only a few hours pregnant, how can it be affecting me already?'

'Your body is adjusting to its new... state. Getting ready for those cells to grow and, I'm not gonna lie to you, angel babies grow quite large. It'll get uncomfortable in the last few months or so. You may be bedbound even. Those cells are already developing and they're going to make your body do strange things. Like craving food, and lots of it.'

'I want pizza,' John hummed. 'Meat lover's.'

'Mmm. We'll order one and whilst we're waiting we can have a bit of a celebration.' 

'Celebrating our creation?' John hummed, snaking a hand down to link their hands over his stomach. 'Why am I suddenly so OK about this? Is this still your calming influence?'

'I've stopped that now, John. This is all you. You're happy about this now, hmm? You should be. Only the very best get impregnated by a Holmes. And you're more than good enough. Or so my ridiculous biology decided.'

'Maybe it's my hormones. Pregnancy and teenager hormones all at once? I'm gonna be eating and sleeping and wanting sex all the fucking time. Jesus Christ. You might not want to take those suppressants. I'm gonna want you fucking me or me fucking you all the fucking time. Mmm. I think I wanna take you while we wait for the pizza. Oh yes. I definitely wanna fuck you while we wait for pizza.'

'Blimey.' Sherlock giggled. 'This is only within the first day. It's going to get far worse. I'll be your little sex toy at this rate. Ah well. I'm not complaining. You after all have the challenge of carrying my child. Hmmm. Maybe you can eat food off my body as a reward.'

'Right now I just want food. And to fuck you. But I want to fuck you first. Come on. Bed.' He stood up and brought Sherlock up with him. 'Leave the bathwater. We'll be needing to clean up after this anyway.'

Sherlock purred softly and let John take him to bed. 'Make hard love to me, John. Make me feel special. Celebrate with me.'

'I'm gonna seat myself in your arse and then I'm gonna order pizza and fuck you at the same time.' John smirked, kissing Sherlock hard.

'Oh god,' Sherlock moaned. 'Take me!'

'Suck,' John ordered, pressing two very eager fingers to Sherlock's mouth. Sherlock slurped at the fingers greedily, wrapping his legs carefully around John's waist.

'Relax, love. I'm training to be a doctor. Let me give you a little prostate massage.' He grinned and pressed a finger in, nice and slow, watching Sherlock's face contort at the intrusion. I'm gonna fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk,' John growled, pulling his fingers out of Sherlock's mouth and swirling them around Sherlock's hole, feeling it tighten in anticipation.

'Errh. It feels strange.' Sherlock's toes curled slightly and his body arched off the bed. His hands flew to John's shoulders and gripped them tight. 'Go slowly. Kinda freaked out right now.'

'Of course.' John leant over and kissed Sherlock softly, pushing his finger further inside his lover. Once he was as deep as he could go he curled the digit and gently searched around for the bundle of nerves. Sherlock hissed as John found his prostate and a low moan soon left his mouth. He rocked backwards on John's finger.

'Love you.'

'Love you, too.' John grinned. 'Ready for another?'

'Mmmf. God yes. Let me have your whole hand.'

'I– what?' John paused, looking down at the one finger he had up Sherlock's arse. 'I'm not into fisting, Sherlock. That's... kinda gross in my opinion.'

Sherlock whined loudly and clenched around John's finger. 'Please?'

'I... I can try. But I'm not gonna like it.'

Sherlock sighed and shook his head. 'It's fine. Just prepare me for a good fucking.'

John sighed in relief and inserted a second finger, pumping them slowly. 'We can maybe try that later, when we feel like experimenting. Right now I just want to fuck you.'

Sherlock grunted in reply. Any retorts that he had wanted to say had died on the very tip of his tongue. John grinned wolfishly and dared to insert a third finger, pushing them inside with a little difficulty. He licked his lips and leant over Sherlock's chest, watching it rose and fall in soft pants before poking his tongue out and lapping at a nipple.

'John.' Sherlock whimpered his human's name as his body was put through all sorts of heavenly sensations.

John hummed and sucked on the nipple, pumping his fingers a little faster now. His cock was heavy and demanding between his legs, twitching madly as it begged to be sheathed inside his angel. Just a little longer. He wanted to hear Sherlock beg for him to fuck him. He swallowed and inserted his pinky finger into Sherlock, turning his hand so his thumb could draw circles on Sherlock's bollocks. Sherlock couldn't take it anymore. His body was craving John like a child craving sweets. Tears pricked at his eyes and he pushed back on the fingers inside of him.

'Please! Stop! Just stop! I need you! Just bloody get inside of me!'

John didn't need to be told twice. He removed his fingers and sat up, watching as Sherlock shivered at the loss of sensation. He licked his palm and slicked himself before steadily pushing inside, gasping at how tight and warm it was. Sherlock gripped John's thighs tightly, leaving little bruises on the previously unblemished skin. His breathing hitched and he rocked backwards, moaning and whimpering John's name like no tomorrow.

John was at a loss for words. He seated himself fully in his angel's arse and gasped softly. He leant down and captured Sherlock's lips in a soft but passionate kiss. His hands travelled up Sherlock's chest and tweaked his nipples, swallowing the small gasp Sherlock made. He rocked in and out slowly, allowing them both to adjust to the feeling, and it was taking all of John's strength not to just fuck Sherlock with reckless abandon then and there.

Sherlock lay underneath John, completely vulnerable. His hands ran along John's body, trying to find something, anything, to hold onto. His head buried into John's shoulder as his body lurched fully upwards.

'Don't hold back on me,' he whispered hoarsely, barely able to find his voice now. 'Go for it.'

John nodded and kissed Sherlock again before attempting to move again, slowly at first, getting a rhythm started. Once he felt more confident he gripped Sherlock's hips tight and began moving harder and faster, their skin slapping loudly with each thrust. Sherlock groaned loudly and began to nip John's neck, encouraging him along.

'Oh god,' John groaned, pushing himself to his limits. He fucked Sherlock hard and fast, the bed thumping against the wall as they moved. He wasn't going to last long at all at this rate, but he didn't exactly care. He was horny, he was hungry, and he needed to cum so bloody badly. Sherlock could feel himself getting closer and closer to the blissful edge of his release.

'Not long now,' he warned John. 'Cum with me, love.'

'C-cumming!' John cried, burying himself deep in Sherlock and shuddering violently, feeling Sherlock's cum splattering on his stomach and chest.

Sherlock whimpered as they both came down from their highs. 'That was... that was... err... good.'

'It was extraordinary,' John hummed, feeling himself soften and pulling out. He scootched up further on Sherlock's chest and snuggled against him, his head resting beneath Sherlock's chin.

'I think I need a nap and then food,' he yawned. 'What time is it anyway?'

'No idea, but you definitely need to sleep. I could make you a pizza from scratch if you'd like whilst you're sleeping. No onions, I promise.'

'Mmm. OK.' John rolled off Sherlock and plopped on his back, settling against the sheets. 'Love you.'

'Love you too.' Sherlock kissed the back of John's neck softly before crawling off the bed. 'I'll be back before you know it.'

'Kiss me properly first, you dolt,' John said with a smirk.

'Oh yes, how silly of me.' He bent down and kissed John on the lips tenderly. 'Better?'

'Mmm. Much,' John hummed, smiling softly. 'Put some clothes on before you go downstairs. My father's bound to be up by now.'

'Here's hoping he didn't hear our shenanigans.' Sherlock blushed a rosy colour as he scrambled into the pyjamas he'd borrowed from John earlier.

'He blasts the TV loud when no one's home. He wouldn't have heard an elephant stampede. He'll sure be surprised to see you here though.'

'I'll make up something,' Sherlock said with a shrug. 'Wish me luck.'

'You'll do fine, love,' John hummed, making himself comfortable. 'Love you.'

'Love you too. Now sleep. Your body needs all the rest it can get right now.' He kissed John again before making his way down to the kitchen.

Mr Watson was in his chair watching football, cheering David Beckham on. He turned slightly when he heard the stairs creak. Who was home? He looked to the stairs and was startled to see Sherlock, Jonathan's angel, staring at him from the bottom step, wearing some very ill-fitting pyjamas.

'Oh! Sherlock! I wasn't aware anyone was home. I thought you'd be at school with John.'

'John isn't feeling well today,' Sherlock lied.

'Oh. I was unaware the boy was ill. Well, at least he's in good hands, yeah?'

'He's in the very best hands,' Sherlock said, grinning.

'Good,' Mr Watson said. 'You come to get him food then?'

'Yeah. He's a little peckish. Thought I'd make him something.'

'Well, don't let me get in your way.' He sat back in his chair and turned his attention back to the TV.

Sherlock breathed out in relief and walked into the kitchen. He got the ingredients out of the cupboards, making everything from fresh. He gently kneaded the dough and made it into a round shape, covering it in homemade tomato sauce and grated cheese. He popped it in the oven for twenty minutes. He hummed when he brought it out. It smelt divine. He cut the pizza into slices and brought it up to John. John hummed as he began to wake, sniffing the air as the scent of the fresh pizza filled the room.

'Hey sleepy head,' Sherlock said, grinning. 'Feeling hungry?'

'Starving.' John sat up and stretched, smiling sleepily. 'Smells delicious.'

'Should taste delicious too. Now eat up. There's plenty more where this came from.' Sherlock poked John's belly playfully. 'I bet your body tells you you're still hungry after this. Angel babies are very demanding even in their very early stages.'

'How long until I start showing?' John asked as he took a bite of the pizza. He moaned softly. It tasted heavenly. Made sense since it was made by an angel.

'You're fairly skinny. I would think that it won't take long. Baby angels may take longer to cook in the oven than human babies but they develop quickly and grow to be almost toddler size by the time they're ready to be taken out. Being part human makes it hard to pinpoint the time you'll start to show. And you may not be able to carry to full term. Carrying such a big baby can come with complications.'

'Oh. So... We should tell my family I'll be travelling for school soon then, huh?' He took another bite of pizza. It really was good. Sherlock was a fabulous cook.

'Yeah. The sooner we tell them you're taking a gap year the better.' Sherlock smiled and budged close to John on the bed, his hands taking a protective stance on his stomach. 'I can't wait till you start showing.'

'Is this your first child?' John asked through a mouthful of pizza.

'Yes. Angels only start going into heat once we've found our soulmate. I didn't believe in such a thing, until I met you that is.'

'Soulmate?' John swallowed his massive bite of pizza and tilted Sherlock's chin up so he could look at him. 'Is that what I am?'

'Yes,' Sherlock said in a small voice. 'You're my soulmate. Sorry to disappoint you.'

'I'm not disappointed. I'm just surprised is all. I didn't give much stock into the idea of soulmates either. I mean, I don't exactly live in a loving household. But now I have my angel, and this unbelievable miracle growing in me.' He splayed his hand over Sherlock's and linked their fingers over his belly. 'I think it's safe to say we're soulmates, and I love you very, very much.'

'I'm glad to hear you say that as I'm afraid you're stuck with me.' Sherlock grinned and kissed John lovingly. 'And I love you more than words can describe.'

'Mmm. Right now, there's no one I'd rather be with,' John said, smiling goofily.

'Still hungry?' Sherlock asked, kissing down John's neck and patting his still flat belly.

'Yes, seeing as I've only had one slice of pizza,' John said, chuckling. 'I'm still quite starving, though not as bad as before.'

'Keep on going. You're eating for two now.'

John picked up another slice of pizza and ate it relatively quickly, devouring it in only five bites. 'Forgive me if I eat a little fast. I'm fucking hungry.' He grabbed another slice and ate it in only four bites. He was basically inhaling the slices.

'Your hunger will become almost constant,' Sherlock told John, laughing lightly. 'You'll literally be eating every hour by the end of it.'

'Will this kid cause me to become morbidly obese?' John asked through a mouthful of pizza.

'A little fat maybe. Well, quite fat. But you'll be able to work it off once the sprog's born.'

'Sprog?' John raised an eyebrow. 'Don't call it that. Please. Call it what it is. Your child. Our child.'

'Our child.' Sherlock laughed. 'Who would have thought, hey?'

'I never would have,' John huffed, grabbing another slice of pizza. 'I'm a pregnant male teenager. What the actual fuck is my life?'

'You're enjoying it though, so far anyway. Wait till you start to show and our child starts to kick inside of you.'

'I think it'll be nice when it shows signs of real life. I may actually cry.' He smiled softly and finished the pizza, humming in content. 'Thanks for the food. I'm gonna need to wash my hands now though. They're all greasy.'

'Allow me.' Sherlock grabbed John's hands and began lapping at the grease on them. John moaned softly and spread his fingers out so Sherlock's tongue could delve between them. He felt his heart rate quicken and his breathing become shallower. He spread his knees slightly to accommodate his growing erection, moaning softly.

'I want you to take me again,' he said softly, watching as Sherlock began licking his other hand clean. 'I need your cock inside me.'

'Already?' Sherlock raised an eyebrow. 'Well, I suppose I should grant you your wish seeing as once the baby is quite large it'll be inadvisable to fuck you.'

'Oh please,' John moaned, threading his fingers through Sherlock's hair. 'Take me. Take me now.'

Sherlock slurped at his fingers before inserting two of them in one go. 'Your wish is my command.'

'We're gonna have to invest in some lube.' John groaned loudly, rocking on Sherlock's fingers. 'Spit isn't gonna be enough if we're gonna be fucking, sleeping, eating, and then fucking some more.'

'Pretty soon you're going to be exhausted from the baby draining you. It'll make it hard to fuck so often.'

'How soon is soon?' John groaned, grabbing Sherlock's waist and pulling him close. 'Like, weeks or months?'

'I'd say weeks possibly. It'll start draining you from then. However, it'll be when it's older and awake. You'll be trying to sleep and it'll be playing bouncy castle on your bladder.'

'Fuuuck,' John groaned. 'I'm not looking forward to that at all.' He looked down at Sherlock's fingers, which had stopped. 'Are you fucking me or not? Because I can do it myself if I have to.'

'Sorry,' Sherlock apologised, pumping his fingers in and out and adding a third.

John moaned and hummed loudly, spreading his legs open a little wider. 'Fuck me just like this,' he groaned, throwing his head back. 'Me, sat on my bed, and you standing between my legs, fucking me. Oh please. It sounds so delicious.'

Sherlock growled and moved to stand between John's legs, quickly removing his fingers and sheathing himself inside. John gasped and moaned, wrapping his legs around Sherlock's waist and gripping tight, pulling him in deep.

'Fuck me. Fuck me now. I don't need time to adjust to your cock. Just fuck me!' he demanded. Sherlock grunted and began to pound himself into John at a frantic rate.

'Yes! Sherlock, yes!' John cried, flopping back against the mattress and arching his back, his hands grasping Sherlock's wrists tight.

'Cum for me!' Sherlock panted heavily, moving faster. 'God! Fuck! Please!'

John grasped his throbbing member and gave it a few strokes before he was cumming across his stomach, moaning Sherlock's name as he brought him over the edge as well.

Sherlock collapsed on John in a huge heap. 'Oh John. I love you. You're perfect.'

'So are you, love,' John laughed softly, completely sated and full of pizza. Now he just needed another nap. 'I love you too. So much. But I need another nap. Can you clean my room up a bit? Just drain the bath and take the pizza plate downstairs, yeah?'

'Mmm. Sure thing.' He kissed John softly. 'I told you you'll be sleeping a lot more.'

John crawled up the bed until he was at his pillow, plopping down and drawing his blankets over him. 'And I wanna get as much sleep as I can before the baby prevents me from doing so.' He yawned and beckoned Sherlock over, kissing him softly before falling asleep. Sherlock smiled and left to drain the bath and remove the rubbish left from the pizza before returning to John. He clambered onto the bed beside him and began rubbing circles on his stomach.

'I can't wait to meet you little one,' he whispered. 'In the meantime, be nice to John.'

John hummed in his sleep and pressed closer to Sherlock's body, moulding himself to fit perfectly. He hummed again and mumbled incoherently in his sleep, a small child with wings flying around in his dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So John is already warming up to the idea of being pregnant. He'll have his ups and downs, just as any pregnant person would, but overall he adapts to being pregnant and learns to enjoy it. Next chapter could be posted this weekend, so keep an eye out for it. If not, then definitely on Tuesday.
> 
> Until next time!
> 
> TSA + IB (back to the land of the Internets and tumblr!)


	17. Overprotective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! It's still Wednesday in America, so I actually still got this posted on the same day I edited the last chapter. It's 10 p.m. here and I'm going to eat ice cream and watch last night's Supernatural episode after this is posted. It's Misha's directorial debut and I'm so excited to watch it. Tumblr seems to have really enjoyed it :)
> 
> InvisibleBlade: Sherlock  
> Me: John, Mary, Mr Watson, Harry  
> Shared: Mrs Watson
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: overprotective Sherlock is a bit of a menace, John gets a little angry, feels, a tiny bit of angst, smut, blow jobs, John resents the baby (right now), John stuffing his face with a shit ton of food.

Sherlock kissed John lightly and watched him carefully till night fell, where he began to rouse once more. John's stomach gave a loud growl and John groaned as he slowly woke up. He turned over so his face was pressed to Sherlock's chest and hummed, smiling softly.

'Hey,' he mumbled sleepily.

'Someone's hungry,' Sherlock said with a soft laugh. 'It's almost midnight. Want a midnight feast?'

'I slept through dinner?' John groaned and buried his head in Sherlock's chest. 'Fuck! Did you talk to my mum at all? Did she remember to get you some clothes?'

'Yes. I talked to her. She got me some really nice clothes. She's worried about you though. She's never known you to sleep so much.' Sherlock frowned. 'You still look utterly exhausted.'

'I'm starving though,' he groaned, his stomach growling again for emphasis. 'Can we go out to like a fast food place that's open all the time? Like McDonald's? I don't want to get up and make food in my house right now. If it's really almost midnight then I don't want to wake anyone up.'

'I could get you some fatty Chinese takeaway. Mmm. Would your belly like some of that?'

'Oh my god, yes,' John moaned, his stomach growling in agreement. 'Chinese takeaway is my favourite.'

'Shall I order everything? See what your belly fancies once it's here. I can tell you're gonna want to eat a fucking lot.' Sherlock smoothed a hand over John's stomach and smiled.

'Yeah. Sure. Mmm.' He pressed himself closer to Sherlock's touch and hummed again, nuzzling against him. 'How do you plan on paying for this, may I ask?'

'I'm filthy stinking rich. That's how.'

'So, I get the sexy, smart, rich angel who can actually cook?' John hummed again. 'I'm the luckiest human in the world.'

'You better believe it.' Sherlock laughed. 'And I'm the luckiest angel to ever live.'

'Mmm. I love you,' John hummed. 'I love you so fucking much. I need you again after you order all that food. Come on, Guardian Angel. Take care of your human.'

'It'll be quicker if I fly there. Want to ride on my back? Then I'll make love to you again.'

'Ugh. No thanks,' John groaned, splaying a hand over his stomach. 'I flew with your brother after you almost bled to death and just about puked my guts out. Plus I'm pregnant, so that would be a very bad idea. Perhaps another time when I'm not carrying your child.'

'OK, love. I'll be right back.' Sherlock kissed John and then moved down to his stomach, kissing that too. 'Stay safe, yeah? I love you both so much.'

'Hurry back,' John whispered, smiling softly. Sherlock nodded and walked to the window, opening it and flying off silently into the night.

John groaned at the loss of Sherlock's warmth. He turned over to try to get some more rest, but as soon as he laid on his stomach he realised he hadn't been to the bathroom in quite some time. He groaned and rolled over, sliding out of bed and making his way to the loo. He didn't bother standing up, knowing he probably wouldn't be able to stand for very long anyway. He almost fell asleep again he was sitting there for so long, but he was startled awake when he heard Sherlock coming back in through the window. He flushed and washed up before coming out to greet him. He kissed Sherlock softly and smiled.

'Missed you,' he said. 'And the food smells so delicious.'

'Mmm. All for you.' Sherlock laughed, pushing the bags brimming with food into John's arms. 'Eat it all up. No arguments.'

John dug into the food greedily, scarfing it down like he hadn't eaten in weeks instead of mere hours. He sat on the floor, the boxes of takeaway around him, and sampled some of everything. His stomach was quite full and distended by the end of his buffet. He groaned and lied back against the floor, his hands over his stomach, full but perhaps a little too much.

'Good boy,' Sherlock praised John, moving to bin what little was left over. 'You'll be starving again soon.' He smirked down at John. 'For now you need to sleep all that off.'

John rubbed his stomach, noticing it was so full it was actually protruding slightly. Something his friends would call a food baby. Only he was pregnant with a real one, too. He groaned softly and reached out for Sherlock.

'Help me into bed.'

Sherlock gently lifted John up and onto the bed. 'Gorgeous,' he whispered, kissing John's belly lightly. John giggled softly and pulled Sherlock up so he could kiss him, humming in content.

'Are you happy with the way things have turned out?' Sherlock asked John gently.

'Right now I am, yes. Though I'm scared to death about lying to my few friends and family and carrying this baby and... birthing it. Is it gonna have wings?'

'Yes.' Sherlock nodded, smiling softly and oh so carefully stroking John's belly. 'It should have wings seeing as my genetics are far superior than yours. Ooooh. That's another two limbs it'll be constantly stretching.'

'Fuuuuck,' John groaned, stretching out beneath Sherlock's touch. He quite liked Sherlock stroking his belly lovingly. It was creepy at first, but he was growing to like it now.

'Arms, legs, and wings. I'm not gonna get any sleep am I?'

'The wings are rather large compared to the size of the babies. They'll grow into them though. It's just the last few months that you want to watch out for. They'll try to take flight within you.'

'You may need to sedate me at that point,' John groaned, pressing closer to Sherlock's touches. 'I'm probably going to be quite irritable and short and just overall exhausted.'

'Mmm. You'll be exhausted alright. Having a baby almost the size of a human toddler with wings inside of you. It's not going to be easy for you I'm afraid.' He nuzzled John's tummy and licked a stripe up it. John moaned softly and arched into Sherlock's touch, shivering slightly.

'Shhh,' Sherlock hushed John and pulled in his tongue. 'You're too tired for this to go any further.'

'Bit late for that,' he huffed, peering down at his half hard cock.

'Sleep,' Sherlock ordered, resting his head against John's and emitted the feeling of drowsiness.

'Bathtard,' John slurred, lisping as his tongue felt too heavy in his mouth. He fell into a deep sleep, his dreams muddled and unclear.

**...::-::...**

The days passed by. John got even more exhausted and hungrier, almost eating the Watson family out of house and home. Sherlock got more wary and protective of him. He wouldn't allow him to lift a finger. It was important that the father of his child was either resting or eating. Anything else might be strenuous and stressful for the growing life within him. Only about a week in and John's previous nonexistent belly was poking out of his shirts and trousers, a tiny pouch of a stomach. Sherlock was very pleased with his progress indeed. He was busy making another pizza on Saturday afternoon to fill that gorgeous belly of John's but when he went upstairs the human was gone. Sherlock instantly panicked, flinging the window open and flying out of it to go in search for his human and most importantly his unborn child.

The past few days had been exhausting. All John did was eat and sleep. Sherlock allowed little else. He barely saw his family and he knew his mum was worried. He could hear her talking with Sherlock outside his bedroom door, asking to see her son. But Sherlock only allowed her a short glimpse to prove he was still alive before closing the door in her face. John was sick and tired of the way Sherlock had taken over his life, dictating what he could and could not do.

'It could put stress on the baby, John.'

'You need to eat for the baby's sake, John.'

'You and the baby need your rest, John.'

John was ready to sock Sherlock across the jaw by now. He'd been cooped up in his room for about four days and he was sick of it all. So, while Sherlock was making him some more food (which he was  _not_  hungry for), he snuck out and texted Mary to meet him at the local café. She agreed immediately. She met him at a table by a window, having already ordered his usual, Earl Grey with one sugar packet and some honey. He smiled gratefully and took the beverage, sipping at it slowly.

'How are you doing?' she asked softly, tracing her finger around the top of her small coffee. 'I haven't seen you at school lately. Everyone said you were sick.'

'No, not sick,' he said smoothly.  _Just illegally pregnant with an angel baby._  'I've been preparing to take a gap year.'

'A gap year? Why?'

'I want to learn things school can't teach me.' He shrugged, taking another sip of his tea. 'Like patience, bedside manner, things like that.'

'Oh. Well, where are you going to go?'

'I was thinking Sweden, but I really don't know. I'll be making a decision soon and I'll be telling my family.'

'You mean they don't know yet?'

'I haven't actually seen that much of them the past few days. Been too busy... planning. Though it was good to get out and see a familiar face for once.'

'It's good to see you too, John.' She smiled softly, draping her small hand over his and squeezing softly. John looked up at her, apprehensive. Since she'd asked him to the Valentine's Day Dance he knew his feelings for her were mutual. But now that he was carrying Sherlock's child he wasn't sure what to do with her anymore. He sighed and squeezed her hand back. He had to tell her they couldn't continue.

'Mary,' he started, swallowing hard. 'I need to tell you something.'

'Oh no.' She pulled her hand back and clutched her coffee mug tight. 'You don't like me, do you?'

'What?! No!' He took Mary's hand again and held it tight, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. 'I like you, Mary, I really do. I just... can't date you. Because of the gap year. But maybe when I come back we can give this another shot.'

Mary sniffled and looked up at John, a soft smile gracing her lips. 'Yeah. OK. Yeah. I'd like that.'

'Yeah?' John grinned, daring to link their fingers together, officially holding hands for the first time.

'Yeah.' She grinned right back. 'Take care of yourself when you're abroad, OK? I'm gonna miss ya like crazy.'

'Me too, Mary. You're a great girl.' He stood up and gave her a tender hug. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close, closing her eyes and humming in content.

Sherlock had finally found John in a small café. He stormed in, his wings lying defensively on his back, his eyes narrowing, and a ferocious growl spilling out of his lips. He saw the girl hugging him and he tensed before waltzing up to the two of them.

'Where the hell have you been?!' he shouted, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation. 'I've been worried sick about you! You know you're not supposed to be out when you're so... ill! Come on. Home. You need to sleep.' He turned his attention to the girl and snarled. 'Stay away from him. Do you understand me? Stay away!'

Mary flinched back. John groaned in exasperation.

'Ill?' Mary turned to John. 'You said you weren't ill.'

'I'm not, Mary,' John sighed. 'Sherlock's just worried about me because I was quite ill for about two days.'

'Who is he?' She pointed to Sherlock, who had moved between her and John, separating them.

'This is Sherlock. He's my guardian angel.'

'Oh.' Her face brightened momentarily. 'John's told me about you. I didn't think you'd be so... handsome.'

'Mmmf. I've been told sexy is a far more accurate adjective for me.' He glanced at John. 'Now John really must be going. He's telling his family about his gap year today. I'm sure you can forgive him for leaving you so soon.'

'Yes. He told me he was taking one.' She smiled softly. 'I'll let you take him home. He looks like he could use some rest. Try not to study too hard, OK, John?'

'Yeah. Right. OK. Let's go, Sherlock.' He stalked from the café without so much as a goodbye to Mary, thoroughly pissed off about Sherlock's hovering and over protectiveness. He was currently doing that as they walked home, his wings bristling in anxiety.

'Are you OK? You look a little peaky. Are you hungry? Tired? Feeling weak? Do I need to call a doctor? Is there something wrong with the little one?' he rushed out in a single breath.

'Oh my god! Shut up!' John yelled, finally snapping. He turned back to Sherlock, his fists clenched at his sides, glaring at him in pure anger and frustration. 'I am sick and tired of you hovering over me all the fucking time! I haven't made a decision for myself since you raped me! You keep feeding me and making me sleep and keeping me shut off from the world! I haven't even seen my own mum in four days! Four! Stop dictating every fucking move I make! I'm sick of it! So fucking stop! Let me make my own decisions and let me see my family! I'm barely showing, so they won't know what's happening. What are you so scared of that you have to tell me what to do and hover over me every second? Are you scared I'm gonna miscarry? That I'm going to put the baby in danger? What?'

'I'm scared because if any other angel finds out about this they'll condemn us all to death! You! Me! Our child! They'll kill us all! I mean, I don't particularly care for myself. They can kill me no problem. I'm clearly a failure in both Heaven and on Earth, am I not? I'm just really tense, OK? I don't want either of you to get hurt.' Sherlock looked down at his feet with tear filled eyes. 'I've never had a proper family before, just my brother, and that's what you're giving me, a family. So forgive me for dictating you. I am fucking terrified. You didn't even leave a note. I thought that the High Council of Angels had somehow sniffed you out. I thought the both of you had been taken away from me. I'm... I'm just trying to take good care of you. I – it's not too late to terminate the child, John. Maybe that's what you want. Maybe that's what I need to let you do. I forced you into this. I'm a fucking idiot and I'm royally fucked up. I suppose I'll just leave now.' Now with violent tears running down his cheeks, Sherlock disappeared.

John's breath hitched at Sherlock's words. There was a council of angels that would kill them if they were found out? He choked on a sob when Sherlock disappeared, his knees suddenly feeling weak. He sat down on the closest bench and splayed a hand over his stomach, his small bump hard and firm beneath his palm. He cried silently, cradling the small bump in his hand.

'Sherlock!' he yelled out, far tears falling down his cheeks. 'Sherlock! Stop running away! Get back here you son of a bitch!'

'I never left you. I could never do that.' Sherlock was sat beside John on the bench. 'So...' He swallowed rather thickly. 'You're getting rid of it, aren't you?'

'I don't know,' John choked out, his hand still splayed over his stomach. 'I really don't know what to do anymore. I... I think I want to have this baby... but I can't take care of it. Mycroft said he'd take care of it, right?'

'Of course.' Sherlock smiled reassuringly. 'Your only job is to carry this child for a long as you can. Which is hopefully at least nine months.'

John took a deep breath, calming down slightly. 'OK. I... I think I can do that.' He looked up at Sherlock and gave him a soft but strained smile. 'I need to tell my family about the gap year before my stomach gets any bigger. Plus we've got that doctor's appointment Monday night too. I'm assuming you're taking me there? And Mycroft will be there too?'

'You assume correctly.' Sherlock gazed at John through a few stray curls that had fallen over his eye. 'For now I shall try not to hover, as you put it. Please understand that I only do what I think is best for you, and seeing as I am connected to the fetus I know when you are due your next food intake or your next nap probably before even you do.'

'I'm not even hungry right now,' John groaned. 'I mean, you keep shoving food in my mouth even when I say I'm not hungry. And you give me this look that says, "You don't know what you want," and you shove it in my mouth anyway. I do appreciate what you're doing for me, I do. Just... stop dictating my life, OK? I'm still capable of making my own decisions and making my own food and shit like that. Just give me some independence, OK?'

'Okay, okay.' Sherlock held up his hands in a mock surrender. 'I just– I'm trying to look out for you. Just tell me if I start being a dick to you. Oh, and we need to tell your parents tonight. At the rate you're going things are going to become suspicious.'

'Yeah.' John looked down at his stomach and frowned. 'These things grow fucking fast. Or is this all from the food?'

Sherlock moved so his fingertips were lightly prodding John's stomach. 'That isn't fat, John. That's our baby. Angel babies grow rapidly. That's why you'll be needing to eat so often.'

'I didn't expect to be showing somewhat already. It's only been a few days. We need to hurry and tell my family I'm leaving before I get any bigger. Then we need to get out of here. Maybe Monday after the doctor.'

'Angel babies are like little parasites. They'll feast on everything you put into your system in order to grow large. It's a survival instinct. And yes, we're leaving Monday. It has all been arranged.'

'Human babies are parasites too,' John huffed. 'This one is no different. It just has wings.' He stood up and stretched slightly. 'Come on. Let's go home. And let's walk. It's kinda nice out for January.'

'It is a rather nice day,' Sherlock hummed, tilting his head up to the sun. 'Mmmm. And to top it off your mother is making a roast dinner. She can really cook. Her food is about the only food I'll touch.'

'I find it completely rude and unfair that you've been having dinner with my family and I haven't,' John huffed, walking back toward home. 'This'll be the first time I've seen my mum since you slammed my door in her face.'

'I apologise. I believe I am nesting. It makes me extremely protective of the life growing inside of you. Whilst you may be with child I am the one going through raging hormones right now. They make me highly protective of you.'

'Nesting.' John giggled, snorting slightly. 'Sorry. It's just funny because you're like a bird. Do you guys moult like regular birds do?'

Sherlock rolled his eyes. 'Yes. We moult. Like crazy actually.'

'You know, I've known you for just over two months now and I've never seen you moult.' John cocked his head in thought. 'You know, when we first met I considered stuffing a pillow with the feathers you lost. Keep us close, you know?'

Sherlock hummed and turned around slightly, plucking a loose feather from his wings. 'Here. Not quite a pillow but I'm not due to moult for another couple of months.' He held the feather out to John and frowned when John's eyes widened. 'What's wrong? Don't you want it?'

'I... Everyone knows it's a special gift to receive a feather from an angel. I... Thank you.' He took the feather from Sherlock and held it to his chest.

'You're quite welcome. After all, you deserve it with carrying my offspring. And plus you've been a good friend to me since I've arrived.'

'You've been a great angel.' John grinned up at him. 'I'd kiss you if we weren't in public.'

'I'll kiss you when we get back. We're almost there, aren't we?'

'Yeah. Just about.' John clutched the feather tight, not wanting it to blow away in the wind. When they got home he immediately went to his room, not wanting his mum to see him quite yet. He wasn't ready to answer her slew of questions. He put the feather in his desk drawer and turned around when Sherlock closed the door behind him, his heart hammering in his chest. God he loved him. He loved his baby daddy angel so much.

'Come here you.' Sherlock moved towards John and enveloped him in a bear sized hug, his lips connecting with his own within seconds. He moaned and raked a hand through John's mop of light blonde hair, loving every moment of the kiss. John shivered at Sherlock's touch, his fingers tangling in his hair and pulling him in, deepening their kiss. He sat on his desk and opened his legs, pulling Sherlock between them and rocking against him.

'Please. Sherlock, please. I need you,' he begged softly, scratching Sherlock's sensitive scalp with his nails.

'I need you too–' Sherlock groaned as he heard the sound of Mrs Watson's voice.

'Boys! Dinner's ready! Is John well enough to come down now?'

'Not yet,' John groaned, his arousal aching in his jeans. 'Oh god. I can't think about food right now. I need you inside me right now.'

'I can't take you right now–' Sherlock winced as he heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

'Boys! I need an explanation! Is John really so sick that he can't see his own mother?'

'We should really go tell them about the gap year,' John said softly, sitting up slowly. 'Can you make our erections go away?'

Sherlock nodded and willed them both away. 'We're coming Mrs Watson! John's just... washing his hands.'

'That's a terrible excuse,' John giggled softly.

'Be down in five minutes!' his mum called through the door. She left and both he and Sherlock visibly relaxed. John kissed Sherlock softly before pushing him away, sliding off his desk and back to his feet.

'We should go.'

'Wait a minute.' Sherlock reached forward and tenderly cupped John's small bump in both hands. 'Sorry.' He pulled his hands back and smiled. 'Come on, let's go.'

'It's OK.' John smiled softly and splayed his hand over the small bump himself. 'Let's go.'

Sherlock nodded, following John like a loyal dog, his wings twitching nervously. John's mum nearly cried when she saw him. She pulled him in a tight hug and buried her face in his shoulder. Now she  _was_  crying. John hugged her back and noticed how tense Sherlock looked, his wings bristling in agitation. Sherlock whimpered and took a step back, trying to stop himself from ripping John from Mrs Watson right then and there.

'Mum,' John said softly, pushing on her shoulders. She stepped back, sniffling and wiping at her eyes. 'I'm OK. Really. Sherlock's taken really good care of me. I'm all better now.'

'I haven't seen you in days though,' she said, sniffling as more tears fell down her cheeks. 'Were you really that sick?'

'I was, yes. But I'm all better now.' His stomach growled loudly and he laughed softly. 'Seems I'm ready for dinner. Shall we eat?'

'Yes. Of course, yes.' She wiped at her eyes again and smiled softly. 'Go ahead and sit. Your father is getting your sister.'

Sherlock took a deep breath. He felt positively nauseous with worry. His wings wouldn't stop twitching and he was jumpy as hell. John sat at the table and eyed Sherlock worryingly. He was so tense. Was he going to survive the dinner without whisking him away?

'I... I don't feel good,' Sherlock whimpered, shifting in his seat anxiously. He had to sit on his hands to stop himself from grabbing John and dragging him back to his bedroom. John looked around quickly to see if anyone was looking. No one was. He kissed Sherlock softly, placing his hand on his thigh and squeezing gently.

'It's gonna be OK, love. We're gonna get through this dinner and we're gonna be OK.'

'Sorry. It's just that nesting thing again.' Sherlock pouted when John giggled again. He whacked him playfully with his wing. 'It wasn't funny the first time and it's not funny the second either.'

'Yes it is.' John giggled again, rubbing at the spot where Sherlock had thwacked him. 'It just makes me think that once we get away you're gonna gather branches and leaves and shit and build us a nest to live in. It's quite a funny image.'

'Who's to say that's not what's going to happen?' Sherlock raised an eyebrow before sniggering at John's expression. 'You genuinely believed me a minute there, didn't ya?'

'A bit, yeah.' John laughed. 'Though I expect it'd actually be quite comfortable.' He pulled away when his father and Harry came in, though his left his hand on Sherlock's thigh, covered by the tablecloth.

'Ah. Jonathan.' Mr Watson smiled. 'Good to see you up and around. Feeling better?'

'Yes, Sir. Much better,' John said, smiling tersely at his father.

'All thanks to me, right John?' Sherlock smirked, bumping his knee playfully against John's underneath the table.

'All thanks to you.' John grinned back at him. His mum placed the roast on the table and sat down, smiling to herself.

'Well, now that you're feeling better, I hope you worked up an appetite,' she said, smiling at him. John's stomach growled in response and she giggled, John's cheeks flushing red. She said a quick prayer, giving thanks for John's quick recovery, and then everyone dished up their plates. John tried not to put too much on, but the baby was complaining about not having had food for so long. He put a little extra on his plate and dug in, trying to eat slow and normal.

'May I just say this tastes divine,' Sherlock complimented John's mother as he tucked into his own plate of food, giving her a warm smile. He suddenly became aware of a range of animal like noises. He turned and blinked at John. He was funneling more and more food down him and still his stomach was growling and showing signs of being empty and overall unhappy. Three blinks later and John had all but finished what was on his plate and was piling up his seconds.

'Jonathan!' Mrs Watson scolded. 'Slow down! You sound like a bloody animal over there.'

'I'm hungry!' John said between a mouthful of food.

'I don't care! Slow down! And put that ladle down! You don't need seconds yet! Let your food settle before you have more.' John groaned and put the ladle back in the gravy, sitting back in his chair and pouting.

'To be fair, he hasn't eaten in almost four days, Mrs Watson. Let the boy eat some more. I'm sure he'll find his table manners once he's satisfied his appetite.' Sherlock glanced over to the pouting John and winced as a thunderous growl of hunger rolled out from his stomach.

'Oh. Well, I suppose that explains why we haven't seen much of him. Go ahead, dear. But do try to eat slower.'

John nodded and piled more food onto his plate, drowning everything in gravy before devouring it. Sherlock watched as another plateful was cleared within a matter of minutes. He raised an eyebrow at John, silently asking him whether his baby was done wanting food. He received a small shake of the head and a slightly concerned look from John.

'Honey, are you OK?' Mrs Watson asked, looking at her son in concern. 'I've never seen you eat so much. And so quickly.'

'I... I'm fine,' John lied. His stomach didn't feel as empty as before but he found he was still incredibly hungry. He forced himself to stop, not wanting to worry his mum any more than he already had.

'Actually, there's something I need to tell you guys.' He looked to Sherlock and swallowed.

'Oh?' Everyone set their forks down and looked at him. He swallowed again and looked to his mum, her eyes soft but still slightly concerned.

'I... I've decided to take a gap year,' he spit out, waiting for their reactions.

'A gap year?!' His mum was in tears already. Oh great. Now he was gonna cry too. 'Why? Why would you leave like that?'

'Because I want to learn abroad. I want to gain experience you don't learn in school. Mum, this will be good for me.' He looked to Sherlock for support.

'It will give him an advantage to most aspiring doctors. He will be able to get a feel for the work place. I will also ensure that he continues to study so when he returns he will pass all his exams.' Sherlock gently squeezed John's thigh, his fingers splaying out to gently caress the bottom of his extended belly.

'Mum, please don't cry. This will be good for my career. And we can have Skype chats. I showed you how to use it over break so you could speak with Aunt Helen. Please don't cry, Mum.'

'A year will fly by.' Sherlock smiled gently at Mrs Watson.

'Oh, baby.' She sniffled, tears falling down her cheeks. 'I'm gonna miss you so much.' She walked over and hugged John tight. Harry let out a whoop, everyone turning to glare at her.

'I get his room while he's gone!' she cried.

'No you don't!' John and Mrs Watson growled at the same time.

'Why not? He won't be using it for a whole year!'

'Because you'll ruin my room!' John cried. 'Who knows what kind of scum and illegal substances you'll hide in there!'

'Illegal what?!' Mr Watson spoke up for the first time and glared at Harry. 'You doin' drugs?'

'I'm surprised it took you so fucking long to notice!' she yelled.

'Watch your language!' he roared.

Sherlock jumped to his feet, his wings almost stretching to their full span, a dangerous hiss falling from his lips.

'Shut up,' he growled. 'Shut your mouth and stop yelling whilst John's around.'

Harry recoiled, remembering what Sherlock had done the night they'd first met. She clamped her lips shut and nodded. John sighed and swallowed.

'I... I'm sorry, but I should go. I have some packing and planning to do. I'll see you again soon.' He stood up and kissed his mum's cheek before leaving, Sherlock close behind.

'I'm sorry about that,' Sherlock grumbled. 'But negativity isn't good for our little tyke. And your sister reeks of it.'

John slammed the door shut behind them, but instead of yelling he pulled Sherlock close and sealed their lips together, walking backwards until he made it to the bed. He fell down on it, pulling Sherlock on top of him, snogging him passionately.

'That was brilliant,' he gasped out when they finally pulled away. 'God, that was brilliant. Oh I love you. I love you and I need you so fucking bad.'

'Are you sure shagging you is such a good idea?' Sherlock gasped out. 'Your belly looks kind of full.'

'Then suck me off,' John gasped, his cock achingly hard in his trousers. 'Please. I need you to touch me. You haven't in so long.'

Sherlock nodded silently and tugged John's trousers down, crawling down his body. He opened his mouth and worked himself up John's length, until his nose was pushed against John's bloated belly.

'Ignore it,' John moaned, rutting his hips up and groaning loudly. 'Keep going. Please.'

Sherlock travelled further upward, his face pressed firmly against John's stomach now, strange noises coming from it. He began working himself down before going back up again at full force, nuzzling John's belly protectively and sucking harder.

'Oh fuck!' John groaned, grasping his sheets tight. 'Don't stop! Feels so good!' Sherlock growled and hollowed out his cheeks, a cheeky finger tickling John's bollocks.

'Oh! Oh god! Gonna– Fuck!' John cried as he came, spilling himself in Sherlock's mouth. He collapsed against his bed, a satisfied smirk on his face, not even embarrassed he hadn't lasted long at all. Sherlock pulled back and laughed. He moved upwards and nipped the hard bump where his baby was fast growing. John hummed and threaded his fingers through Sherlock's hair.

'I'm gonna need more food.' His stomach growled in agreement. 'I didn't eat a lot at dinner. Could you get me Chinese again?'

'I hate to tell you but you actually polished off two large mountains of food.' Sherlock nipped and tugged at John's belly. 'But I'll get you some anyway. God, you're gonna be so big soon at the rate you're going.'

'I'm fucking hungry,' John groaned, shuffling out of his trousers and kicking them to the floor. 'The baby is quite demanding.'

'Wait till you hit the whole eat-a-meal-every-hour stage. You're gonna resent food after this completely.'

'Could you just get me the food before my stomach makes a fuss? Besides, I'm already starting to resent food. This is the most I've eaten in years. My body doesn't know what to do with it. It's used to me... depriving it of food.'

'Oh, well, the little one is changing that pretty rapidly. I wasn't expecting a bump this early on.' He crawled off the bed and stood to his feet. 'Time to get you something that'll make our baby grow even bigger.'

'The thing's growing faster than I expected. Good thing we'll be leaving Monday.'

'You'll be able to see its heart beating already.' Sherlock grinned in excitement, bouncing up and down. 'Gah! So much cooler than a week old human fetus.'

'You can't even tell a woman's pregnant when she's only a week along,' John huffed, splaying a hand over his bump. 'Though I have to admit this is pretty cool. Now please get me some food. Chinese. A large chicken and broccoli with rice. Oh, and some crab rangoon.'

'Done and done.' Sherlock ran to the window and opened it, flying off to get John double the amount he'd asked for.

John slid out of bed and took off his shirt, standing nearly naked in his bedroom. He pulled his pants up and made his way to the bathroom, using the loo and washing his face. He looked at himself in the mirror, taking in the fullness of his face and how much fuller his stomach looked, both from food and the baby. He looked down at his bump and frowned slightly. He splayed a hand over it. It was hard and firm, just as it had been earlier that afternoon. He turned slightly and examined it in the mirror. It sat comfortably just above his waistband, almost like a pudgey stomach would. Only it wasn't a pudgey stomach; it was an illegal angel rape baby. John didn't mention it being a rape baby in front of Sherlock anymore. The hurt look on his face killed John a little every time he dared mention it. So now he only referred to it as a rape baby in his mind.

'As soon as you're born, I want nothing more to do with you,' he said to the bump. 'You shouldn't even exist, but I'm having you to make Sherlock happy. As soon as you're born I am leaving and my life will go back to normal.'

He went out to his room and pulled on a loose t-shirt, not bothering with trousers, and waited for Sherlock to return. He doodled in his sketchbook aimlessly before he realised he was drawing Sherlock's penis from memory. He flushed and finished the drawing before tucking it in his bottom drawer with the rest of his erotic magazines and drawings.

Sherlock flew through the window to find John on his bed, little groans of discomfort coming from his lips, his hand rubbing his belly furiously.

'Good job I brought double what you ordered. You look starving.'

'Oh my god, thank you!' John sat up quickly, taking the bag of food from Sherlock and opening the box of crab rangoon. He quickly ate one and moaned in pleasure, scarfing down another.

'Need a bowl and fork,' he said through a full mouth. Sherlock seemingly pulled out a bowl and a fork out from nowhere and passed it to John. He also passed him a box brimming with pastries.

'Eat up.'

John grabbed a handful and shoved one in with the rest of the crab rangoon still in his mouth. He chewed and swallowed, a look of utter disgust on his face.

'Crab and pastries don't mix,' he grit out, popping another pastry in his mouth. 'Make yourself useful and put the rice in the bowl and the chicken and broccoli on top. Then mix it together.' He shoved another pastry in his mouth and hummed. Everything tasted so much better than it usually did. Maybe it was because of the baby. Sherlock grinned and followed John's instructions. Once he was done he moved his hand to rub John's very bloated stomach, fascinated with how the food pushed it further outwards.

'Gimmie that,' John said through a mouthful of pastry. He took the bowl from Sherlock and stirred its contents slightly before shovelling it into his mouth. Damn everything was delicious. He moaned in delight and started licking the bowl clean, wanting to eat every last drop.

'You're still hungry,' Sherlock stated and gaped in awe as John finished everything, but his stomach sounded as though it wanted more. 'I... bloody hell. What do you fancy? I'll get you anything.'

'I... I ate everything?' John's jaw dropped, the bowl falling from his hands and clattering to the floor. 'But– I– What?'

'Still feeling like you haven't eaten in days?' Sherlock asked softly. 'It's OK. It's normal. What do you want?'

'Burgers. I'm craving beef. And the good kind, not the shitty fast food stuff.'

Sherlock smirked. 'Be right back,' he promised and left to retrieve more food.

John lied back against his floor, staring down at his stomach. It looked painfully distended but he still felt starving. The rape baby certainly absorbed the food fast.

'I hate what you're doing to me,' he growled at it. 'But I'm doing this for Sherlock, so I guess I'll put up with you. But I swear, as soon as you're born my life goes back to normal, like you never happened.' His stomach merely gurgled in reply.

Sherlock found a good burger café not far from John's house. He bought a dozen of them and bought a huge piece of chocolate cake dripping in toffee sauce too. He flew back and plopped the food on a tray on John's lap. John groaned and sat up slowly, grabbing a burger and eating it in five large bites. He couldn't even look at the cake. He ate another burger, then another, slowing down as he ate them all. When he finished he plopped back against the floor, groaning in discomfort.

'Fuck my life,' he groaned.

'Ouch.' Sherlock winced. 'Your hunger is increasing already. Painfully so.'

'I can't eat anymore,' John whined pitifully. 'I don't want to eat ever again.'

'Go to sleep. Once you wake up you'll feel empty once more. You can have the cake then.'

'Help me into bed,' John groaned, holding out his hands. 'Gently. I feel a little  _too_  full. Don't jostle me or I may be sick.'

Sherlock gently lifted John up and placed him down on the bed. 'That reminds me. I should probably warn you about morning sickness. Expect it soon.'

'Sherlock, I'm a med student. I know all about morning sickness. And you're a bit late. It's already started. Yesterday in fact. It only seems to flare up early in the morning when you fall asleep.'

'I'm sorry,' Sherlock apologised, face concerned. 'I try to watch you for as long as I can but I always fall asleep. Is it bad? I've heard angel babies give you horrific morning sickness.'

'No, it hasn't been too bad. I mean, it doesn't feel like I'm puking my guts out or anything. And don't feel bad about sleeping. I know you don't need to sleep long anyway, so just go ahead and sleep while I do. Maybe then you can be awake when my morning sickness hits.'

'OK. I'll cuddle up to you tonight and sleep.' Sherlock curled up on the bed, an arm wrapping tenderly around John's stomach. John hummed and cuddled closer, turning to face Sherlock, grasping his shirt slightly.

'I love you,' he said softly, his eyelids heavy with exhaustion.

'I love you too. Lots and lots.' John's tummy growled. 'You too, honey.' Sherlock chuckled. 'I especially love you.'

'Hey.' John pouted, frowning. 'That thing wouldn't even be here if your damn biology didn't love me so much. Now shut up and kiss me before I pass out.'

'Idiot,' Sherlock grumbled, kissing his lover. John hummed in content, smiling into the kiss.

'Goodnight, Sherlock. I'll see you in the morning when I'm hunched over my toilet, vomiting.'

'Hmm. How romantic. It's a date.'

'G'night, Lock.' John yawned, cuddling a little closer, falling asleep listening to the beating of Sherlock's heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there's gaps in this chapter as well please let me know and InvisibleBlade and I will try to fix it as soon as we can. 
> 
> Next chapter is the dreaded doctor's appointment. John, at this point in time, doesn't like the baby but doesn't want to get rid of it because of how it would affect Sherlock. But I promise he starts to grow to like being pregnant and to love the baby as well. I promise. Next chapter should be up next week.
> 
> Until next time!
> 
> TSA + IB


	18. Doctor's Visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. Apologies for not posting this past Tuesday. I had a busy week. But I figured I'd post today and, since this chapter is rather short, I'd post again on Tuesday to make up for the loss.
> 
> InvisibleBlade: Sherlock, Mycroft  
> Me: John, John's mum, John's dad  
> Shared: doctor
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: angst, depressing thoughts, brief mentions of past rape, brief mentions of considering abortion, more angst, vomiting, blood, fetal distress that requires surgery

'Are you almost packed?' Sherlock asked John carefully. 'We're going to the doctor's very soon. Make sure you've remembered everything you want and then say your goodbyes.'

John looked at his lone suitcase and nearly empty room. He'd packed his comfy, stretchy trousers, some loose t-shirts, his drawing supplies, and his medical textbooks. He looked around again, wishing he didn't have to leave but knowing he had no choice. He looked down at his slightly bigger bump and frowned slightly. He really should get rid of it, but he was doing this for Sherlock. He closed his suitcase and passed it to Sherlock, knowing the angel wouldn't want him to carry it for long, or at all, seeing as it put stress on his core to carry it whilst standing upright. He went downstairs and was greeted by his tearful mum, his sister and father beside her.

'I'm gonna miss you so much, baby,' she said, wrapping her arms around him in a firm hug. 'Let me know when you get to your destination, yeah?'

'Of course. And don't forget about Skype. I'll call you as often as I can. Promise.'

'Take care of my baby boy,' she said to Sherlock, still holding John almost possessively. 'He's the only one I've got.'

Sherlock nodded and stood proud and tall. 'I will take the very best care of him,' he assured her. His eyes wandered down to John's belly briefly. It was larger and more prominent than before. He was surprised the topic of John's weight hadn't been brought up. His cheeks were chubbier too. His thighs were filling out and his arse was rounder.

'Mum, please,' John pleaded softly, pulling away. 'I'm going to be fine. I promise.' He turned to his father and they shook hands briefly.

'Stay smart,' he said. 'And stay safe.'

'Yes, sir.' John nodded. He turned to Harry. 'You still aren't getting my room.' He kissed his mum's cheek and gratefully took the meal she'd made him, smiling softly.

'I love you, baby,' she sniffled, hugging him one last time. 'Call me as soon as you get there.'

'I love you too, Mum,' John said softly, hugging her close. 'I'm gonna miss you a lot.'

'Me too, baby.' She pulled away, wiping at her eyes. 'Now go before you miss your train.'

'Yeah. OK. I'll talk to you soon, Mum. Bye. I love you.'

'I love you too, baby,' she choked out, waving as he and Sherlock got into a cab and drove off.

Sherlock gazed at John sadly. 'We're going to be OK, John. I promise you. You'll see them again. Try not to be too pessimistic.'

'I'm a very negative person, Sherlock,' John said, staring out the window of the cab. 'I'm only positive when I want to be. And right now, I don't want to be positive. I... I miss my mum already.'

'And she misses you like crazy too, but we have no other choice. Unless you want to back out of things.'

'No,' he answered automatically.

'Good to hear.' Sherlock grinned. The cabby came to a stop then. 'Come on. Jump out.' Sherlock grabbed John's suitcase and hauled it out. 'Time to see our baby.'

The cabbie gave them a weird look and John flushed in embarrassment and fear.

Sherlock bit his lip and sighed. 'Baby is the name of his... dog. They found him near the hospital. He's been lost for days, poor thing.'

The cabbie gave a noncommittal grunt and held his hand out for the fare. Sherlock paid the cabbie the fare, plus a little extra, dragging John into the hospital quickly. John watched the man pick up another fare and drove off, sighing in relief.

'You need to be careful what you say around people,' he scolded Sherlock softly. 'You'd be surprised who could overhear.'

'I know. I'm sorry. It's just... this is really happening. I'm so excited. You're so round with my child already and we're going to see them today.'

'Yeah. It is rather exciting,' John said, though his voice held no excitement whatsoever. He looked down at his belly as Sherlock led him down a corridor. He had put on a lot of weight already, and his stomach rested above the top of his trousers like his father's beer gut. He wasn't so sure about this anymore, but he was still going to go through with it for Sherlock's sake.

Sherlock led John into a private room. Mycroft was there already, ready to greet them.

'Are you certain of this?' Mycroft asked John. 'I know how forceful Sherlock can be. If he's pressuring you in any way–'

'Mycroft!' Sherlock exclaimed. 'John is more than capable of making his own decisions. I've given him his options.'

'Yes,' John said softly, clutching Sherlock's hand tight. 'I... I want to do this.'

'Very well. Sit on the table.' Mycroft nodded towards it. 'The doctor will be here in a minute.'

John climbed onto the table with Sherlock's help. He sat on the edge, gently kicking his legs against the side, dull thuds echoing in the quiet room. The doctor came in at that moment. He smiled at John as professionally as he could, considering the circumstances, though he was cringing internally.

'I'm Doctor Harper. So, um... what have we here?'

John swallowed thickly, nervous as hell.

'I... Uh... Seem to be pregnant,' he said softly, staring down at his feet.

'You do rather, yes.' The doctor smiled softly and walked forward. 'Can you lift your top for me? I just want to feel everything's OK.'

John lied back against the table and lifted his shirt up, staring up at the ceiling. The doctor's hands were cold as he examined him, and John flinched every now and again when his cool fingers pressed somewhere unexpected. The doctor smiled as he felt the hard bump his patient was possessing shift slightly. A tiny, not fully formed foot or fist pushed lightly against the doctor's hand.

'Feel that? That's your kid saying hello.'

John swallowed and continued staring at the ceiling. He wasn't ready for this. He didn't want this baby either, but it was far too late now. The thing was alive.

'Yeah,' he choked out after a moment. 'Feels a bit uncomfortable actually.'

'You'll get used to it,' the doctor said with a tight smile. 'Now, I think the next step of action would be to see how this little one is doing inside. See if his ticker is working alright.'

'OK. That's seen with an ultrasound, yeah?'

'Yes.' The doctor nodded, fetching the cool blue gel and the machine. 'This is gonna be a bit cold. Sorry.'

John flinched slightly as the cold gel hit his stomach, staring up at the ceiling again. He felt the doctor press down against his stomach again, but that time with the thing that transmitted the picture to the screen. Fuck, he was drawing blanks on terms he knew he knew. Damn his nerves to hell. He glanced over to Sherlock who was staring at the screen, his full attention on it, hoping to catch a glimpse of his child.

And that was it, wasn't it? It wasn't  _their_  child, it was solely  _his_. He never referred to it as theirs, only as his. John was fine with that. He didn't want the damn thing anyway. As soon as it was born he wanted nothing to do with it. He'd erase the past year from his mind as if it never happened. The kid didn't exist, he and Sherlock had never had sex, and he was a straight teenager trying to get into med school once again. No kid tying him down and no overprotective angel dictating his every move. And definitely no angel trying to get into his pants either. He'd go back to Mary and see if they would hit it off. He didn't love Sherlock anyway. He only said it because it made him happy. Though he couldn't deny that sometimes when he looked at Sherlock his heart sped up. But he chalked that up to the raging hormones in his body, both from being a teenager and pregnant.

He was brought out of his thoughts by a steady rhythm sound coming from the ultrasound machine. A heartbeat. Sherlock's rape baby's heartbeat. John choked up slightly and felt tears prick at his eyes. Too late to turn back now. He was in this for the long haul.

Sherlock teared up too. That was his child. His little baby on the screen. It had the faint outlines of early wings, a head too big for its body and tiny arms and legs that were still forming. Sherlock leant in and touched John's stomach, the baby's heart rate speeding up dramatically. John swallowed thickly and stared up at the ceiling. He wasn't ready for this. He didn't want this. But one look at the joy on Sherlock's face reminded him why he was going through with the pregnancy. Just nine months of hell and then he could go home.

Sherlock laughed joyfully, practically vibrating with excitement. 'Wow. Just wow,' he breathed out and laughed some more. 'It's so tiny.'

The doctor smiled tightly and laughed a little too, wiping his patient's stomach clean of the blue gel.

'Everything looks to be in working order. He's a little small for this early in the pregnancy but I suppose I could chalk that up to it being part human too. Now, I suppose I need to tell you what to expect during the course of your pregnancy. Firstly, have you discussed whether you're carrying to term or whether you're getting this little one out early? Nine months at the least is recommended, but even then angel babies can get ill from being out of the womb too early.'

John sat up and pulled his shirt down, smoothing it over the bump.

'We decided that I'm going to try to carry it as long as I can, though since I'm human there's no way I'll be able to carry it to term without complications.'

'OK. That's good. I would advise we keep a close eye on you as you get further into the pregnancy. Now, I have a book which should explain everything you need to know. You will have monthly visits from me and I'll be on call in case there're any problems.' The doctor passed John a large book on angel pregnancy. 'Is there anything you want me to run by you now? Any questions?'

John stared down at the book on his lap. It was nearly as heavy as his medical textbooks for school. He sighed and looked up at the doctor, knowing at least  _he_  could see his conflicted feelings about all this. Sherlock seemed to be totally blind to his feelings.

'Nothing comes to mind,' he said eventually, his voice small. 'What about you, Sherlock? Have you got any questions for the doctor?'

Sherlock shook his head. 'Not currently, no. I'm happy as long as John and the baby are in good health.'

'Right, OK,' the doctor said. 'There are some pills you'll have to take. They'll ensure the baby grows big and strong.' He passed John several bottles of pills. 'Take one with every meal intake.'

'Doctor, with the way I eat carrying this... baby, I eat pretty much every hour. These pills are gonna be gone in a day.'

The doctor laughed softly. 'These are just to get you started. The rest are going to be shipped in crates to your safe house.'

'Jesus Christ,' John groaned. 'Sherlock, you're gonna have to carry these, plus the book. No heavy lifting for the pregnant one. I know that much. You can put them in my suitcase.'

Sherlock took the book and pills off of John obediently and zipped open the suitcase, placing them inside and shutting it once more.

'I will visit daily of course,' Mycroft spoke up for the first time in a while.

'Of course,' Sherlock grunted.

'And I want to know of the fetus's progress. I see it has already come along quite a way.' He gestured at John's stomach with his umbrella.

'Yes, it rather has.' Sherlock gazed at the baby bump hanging out of John's trousers.

'Can you sense the gender?' Mycroft asked him curiously.

'Yes.'

'And?' Sherlock's brother raised an eyebrow.

'It isn't a girl, don't you worry.'

'I wasn't worried.'

'You were. I can see it written on your face. It's a healthy boy. Now do let me go. John and I have a lot to do in preparation for its arrival.'

'Why is it being a girl cause for worry?' John asked, looking between the two brothers.

'Female angels are extremely rare. It would draw attention from the High Council,' Mycroft answered bluntly.

'High Council,' Sherlock snorted. 'Mycroft, you  _are_  the High Council.'

'Oh, do shut up, brother. I play a small role in the High Council. That is all.'

'Guys, please stop talking like I'm not here,' John huffed. 'Explain to me what the High Council is. I want to be an informed human pregnant with an angel baby, not an ignorant one.'

'They're basically a bunch of dicks who decide what's right and wrong. They punish and eradicate anything and everyone who breaks their precious rules.' He gestured to Mycroft. 'Please examine Exhibit A. Only Mycroft is one of the smaller dicks out there. After all, he is helping us out majorly.'

'So, they're like the police of the angel world? Only a lot more strict and willing to kill?'

'Very willing to kill.' Sherlock swallowed heavily. 'But don't worry. I won't let those bastards anywhere near you.' His wings twitched and he growled, baring his teeth.

John flinched back slightly, wrapping his arms around his torso. He didn't like it when Sherlock's instincts came out, especially when he went into heat. But now that John was showing and the life was growing inside him, Sherlock's instincts were coming out more than ever. John was slightly afraid of him now.

'Are we done? I'd like to go before I lose my nerve.'

'Yes. We're done,' Sherlock huffed, grabbing John's hand and pulling him out of the room. He waited till he and John were completely alone before pulling him into a hug. 'I'm sorry, love. I didn't mean to scare you. I just can't lose you or our baby. I love you both so very much.'

'It's... fine,' John said softly, holding Sherlock tight. 'I'm just scared about what my body is going to go through over the next year.'

'So you'll be getting a little fatter, so what? The most important thing is that you're giving this child a chance to live.'

'I'm not worried about my weight,' John scoffed, pushing Sherlock away. 'I'm worried about what the baby could do to my internal organs. Or my bones. Angels are a lot stronger than humans, so what if it kicks me in the ribs and fractures them? I'm scared about the damage my body could take, not about my bloody weight!'

'Shhh,' Sherlock hushed him. 'It's fine. It's all fine. We won't have to think about that till much later.'

'Can we just go?' John sighed, holding himself again. 'I want to sleep.'

'You can sleep on the plane,' Sherlock frowned. 'Stop holding your stomach. You look suspicious and really pale. Are you OK? Whoa!' He lunged forward as John began to topple forwards, catching him. 'What's wrong?! Tell me!'

'Don't know,' John groaned. 'Feel... Feel... Queasy.' No sooner had he spoken and he was vomiting everywhere, bright red blood mixing with the large meal Sherlock had fed him only a couple hours ago. Sherlock picked John up, not caring that he was covered in vomit.

'I've gotcha! It's OK!' He raced into the room they'd just exited and screamed for help.

'Sher-lock,' John gasped out, clutching his stomach. 'What's happening?'

The doctor and Mycroft rushed to their side, the doctor pressing a stethoscope to John's stomach. The doctor's eyes widened. The baby's heartbeat was uneven and almost erratic.

'Your baby is in distress.' As if in agreement, the baby pushed its tiny, not-fully-formed foot against John's belly. 'We may need to operate in the womb.' He glanced at Sherlock and Sherlock nodded, giving him the go ahead.

'O-operate?!' John gasped, looking back at Sherlock frantically. 'What's wrong?! Tell me what's wrong!'

'From the position your baby is in, its umbilical cord is wrapped around his neck. He is slowly suffocating. We have to operate now if you want him to survive.'

'Of course I want it to survive! Take me to the operating room! Now!'

Sherlock watched helplessly as John and his unborn babe were whisked away into major surgery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the rather abrupt and dreadful cliffhanger. For those who are worried about the baby, he'll be fine. There won't be any miscarriage. John still has his qualms about the pregnancy, and it takes him a while to get used to it. Things will start to look up though.
> 
> For those of you who are squeamish, the desperation and piss kink comes into play next chapter. Consider yourselves warned.
> 
> See you Tuesday.
> 
> TSA + IB


	19. To Italy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I know it's really late on Tuesday, but at least it's still Tuesday in America. I'm going to type this really quick because I have to go to work in about 10 minutes. Also, for those who don't like this sort of thing, this is where the piss kink comes in. Consider yourselves warned.
> 
> InvisibleBlade: Sherlock, Mycroft, doctor  
> Me: John
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: angst, talk of possible abortion, sad feels, sex in an airplane, Mile High Club, piss kink, bladder desperation, wetting, there is seriously a lot of piss in this chapter, a fucking lot of piss.

The last thing John remembered before he was sedated was Sherlock's look of utter worry. When he woke he was in a hospital bed, his eyes and tongue were heavy, and his stomach was complaining loudly. He turned his head slightly and saw Sherlock perched in a chair, his hands over his mouth as if in prayer. John smiled weakly at him and the fingers in his hand twitched, wanting to reach out to him, but everything was still so damn heavy.

'Please Lord Please let John and our baby be OK. This is the closest thing to a family I've had in a while. I really think John loves me for who I am. And that baby... I love it so, so much. It's a part of John. Please let it live.'

John remained still, listening to Sherlock. Was he really praying? What was going on? Had something happened in surgery? Sherlock looked up at John. He was still under the spell of anaesthetic. He stood to his feet and walked over to him, a hand touching John's belly gently.

'I thought I was going to lose you both back there,' he choked out. 'I can't believe how selfish I've been, thinking you could carry this child. You don't want to keep our son. I know that. I see it in your eyes. But I must put an emphasis on ours, John. Because that's what he is. It doesn't matter how he came about. He's still a tiny part of me and a tiny part of you. I love him, almost as much as I love you. I sometimes imagine having a family with you. You're smiling and cradling a beautiful little girl. She looks just like you in my head. We're married, and our son is so beautiful. I teach him to fly and you teach him everything there is to know about being a doctor. That is the life I want for us. It's a life we'll never get. It's a life that I know you can't possibly want. Just know this: I love you, a lot. And I know you don't really love me. You just say it to make me happy. Well, I'm happy. Now come back to me and wake up.'

'That... That's not true!' John choked out, but Sherlock couldn't seem to hear him. 'Sherlock! Sherlock! Don't think like that! I love you! I do! Please don't think that I don't. And I want to have our baby! I do! I want to make you happy, so I'm having it. Sherlock! Why can't you hear me?!'

Sherlock squeezed John's hand lightly, a teardrop slipping down his face. 'Please, wake up,' he sobbed. 'I just want you and our baby boy to be OK. Please! Wake up now!'

'Wake up? But I am awake!' John protested, trying to squeeze Sherlock's hand back. 'Sherlock? What's going on? Why aren't I awake? Why can't you hear me? Help!'

'This is all my fault!' Sherlock sobbed harder. 'I should have forced you to terminate the fucking cells!'

'No! No, Sherlock! Don't think like that!' John screamed as loud as he could, but Sherlock still couldn't hear. 'I want you to be happy! Why can't you fucking hear me?!'

Sherlock swallowed, tears pouring down his face. 'If you don't wake up soon... I'll ask them to remove it. Simple as that.'

'No! Sherlock, no! Don't do that!' John struggled to wake up, his eyelids heavy, his entire body heavy, but he managed to squeeze Sherlock's hand. At least he hoped he did.

'John?' Sherlock choked out, feeling a light squeeze of his hand. 'Are you waking up? Please say you are.' John squeezed a little harder, his head flopping over on his pillow to look at Sherlock, blinking his eyes open slowly.

'John!' Sherlock laughed almost hysterically, lips crashing with the barely woken up human. John smiled goofily into the kiss, not letting go of Sherlock's hand.

'Don't... kill... baby,' he said slowly, his mind still fuzzy. 'Love... you.'

'I was seriously considering it,' Sherlock sniffled.

'Heard you... praying.'

'I just wanted you both to be OK.'

'You were being stupid,' John huffed, waking up fully. 'I heard you saying you were going to kill our baby. Sherlock, I don't want you to do that. I'm giving you a family, and you'd just take that away? No. Don't be an idiot. I'm having this baby.'

Sherlock teared up and moved a hand to rub John's belly affectionately. 'You hate it though. You call him a rape baby. It wasn't his fault. Stop punishing him.'

'I'm not punishing the baby,' John huffed. 'But that's what it is. You raped me and impregnated me. It's a rape baby. But I'm still going to have it because it makes you happy. I'm having the baby and that's that. I want nothing else to do with it.'

'I know... But he can hear you, ya know? Don't call him that. It's not fair on him.'

'I don't ever say it aloud. Not much,' John huffed. 'I don't like looking at the... way your face just breaks every time I mention it.'

'Because I can feel our son's pain,' Sherlock sniffled. 'He hates you calling him that.'

'Stop it. Just stop.' John looked away, his eyes swimming with tears. 'I know it hates it. I can feel it too ya know. I'm the one carrying the bloody thing after all! You think you're the only one who can sense what it's doing? Try carrying it your-bloody-self! You'll never understand what I'm going through or feeling! So just shut up and stop telling me what to do! It's my fucking body! So just stop it!'

'He tried to kill himself,' Sherlock whispered brokenly. 'He could sense he wasn't wanted and he tried to strangle himself. Please be nicer to him. Please?'

'The baby did that?' John frowned and looked down at his stomach. 'Look, it's not that I don't want you, I just can't take care of you. You're illegal, and if you are ever discovered we could all be killed. I... I can't take you away from your father, but I can't be a part of your life. Your uncle will raise you and keep you safe and hidden. Just don't do that again. You would make your father very sad indeed.'

'I would have been extremely sad.' Sherlock choked on a lump rising in his throat. 'You're my little boy already,' he whispered softly to John's stomach. 'I want to hold you and teach you how to fly. Please stay strong little man.'

John was tearing up now too. While he wasn't going to be a part of the child's life, at least he'd have Sherlock. He brushed a hand through Sherlock's hair and sniffled.

'When can we go to the safe house?'

'As soon as they give you both the all clear. For now, I just wanna stay here.' Sherlock dragged up a chair and began massaging John's belly gently. John's stomach growled loudly, the baby pushing up to meet Sherlock's touches.

'I think it Did you name him already?'

'No err.' Sherlock hung his head in shame. 'I'm sorry. I shouldn't have. I just didn't like calling him "it."'

'Dammit,' John groaned, thinking his head against his pillow. 'Once you name it you start getting attached to it. Dammit!' He thunked a fist against the mattress and blew out a harsh breath. 'Fine. Whatever. Call him what you want. I don't care. Stop moving that cord again David or I swear I'll rip open my stitches and fix things myself.'

'I said I'm sorry,' Sherlock sniffled, smoothing a hand over John's stomach. 'I never meant to say it out loud. And as you've said, I can call him what I want. It isn't as if you'd want to help name him. Now please calm down. I shall not call him by his chosen name again. I promise.'

'His chosen name?' John settled against the sheets, looking down at his stomach. 'You mean he picked it himself? Do all angels do that?'

'Supposedly it is God that names us and through him we tell our parents. He has been given the name David.'

'David. David.' John tested the name on his tongue. 'David. Hmmm. I like it.'

'David Holmes.' Sherlock laughed oh so softly and patted John's stomach. The baby nudged rather harshly against his hand, as though rejoicing in the fact he now had a name. 'Easy, tiger. You're daddy isn't too happy about you squirming inside of him like that.'

'Makes me feel like I'm gonna throw up to be honest,' John groaned. 'And you're gonna be fed soon. Just relax. Your uncle will be here soon.'

The baby kicked out again as though in defiance of both his daddies. Sherlock smiled.

'Looks like the kid has other ideas.'

'Mycroft better hurry the hell up,' John groaned. 'God this fucking hurts.'

'Ah, sorry I took so long.' The elder Holmes walked in at that moment. 'I had to take a call with the PM. It couldn't wait.' He handed John some Italian and placed two tubs of ice cream on the side. 'Sherlock said the baby is craving ice cream and Italian food. An odd mix I grant you but we angels are an odd bunch, especially as babes.'

'Ice cream? I'm notm afraid you'll just have to ride it out.' Sherlock laughed softly. 'You do, however, have to take the tablets the doctor gave you earlier.' He passed John a bottle of the orange pills. 'Just warning ya, they'll make you need to piss a hell of a lot, along with the bouncing baby on your bladder.'

'Right. OK. How many do I take again?' He opened the bottle and poured a couple into his palm, examining them. 'What even are these? I don't recognise the name at all. These aren't normal prenatal vitamins, are they?'

'Take two,' Sherlock said. 'And nope, they're for angels specifically. You wouldn't recognise them. They make the baby grow nice and big. They'll increase your hunger a little too, to ensure you're taking in enough nutrients.'

'I'm gonna need some water. I can't dry swallow.' Mycroft passed him a glass and he took the two pills with a large swig of water, finishing the glass as well.

'So, when can we leave? I want to get going soon. What time's the flight?'

'Whenever you are ready,' Sherlock replied gently.

The doctor came in right then and smiled. 'How are you feeling?' he asked softly, moving to examine John's stomach. He was surprised when he felt three harsh kicks. 'Well, someone's much happier. Feels like he's having a little party in there.'

'Yeah. He's been fed too, so I think he's feeling better.' John winced when the baby kicked especially hard, a small bruise forming on his stomach. 'He had ice cream, which probably wasn't a smart idea.'

The doctor laughed. 'Well good luck with your baby on a sugar high. He'll be rolling around for a good while.' He pushed lightly down on John's stomach, the baby's foot kicking out twice. 'Everything seems healthy enough. You're free to go. I'm just a phone call away if more medical help is needed.'

'Thanks. Could you maybe prescribe me some sleeping pills? Herbal if needed. I would love to be able to settle him down some nights so I can sleep.'

'I can prescribe you some herbal pills, though they won't do much good. Your baby will be determined to keep you awake. He'll probably force you to burn it off before it even reaches your system.'

'Ugh. Fine. Never mind then. Let's just go before he makes me throw up from all his dancing around.'

Sherlock chuckled softly and moved to scoop John up in his arms. 'Regretting that ice cream yet?' He smirked smugly and kissed him on the head, the elder Holmes making a sound of disgust as he watched.

'Stuff it, Mycroft,' John growled. 'I know for a fact you're in a relationship like ours too. So shut up.'

'Well, not quite like yours. My mate hasn't been impregnated by me for a start,' Mycroft scoffed.

'Watch what you say, Mycroft,' John growled. 'The baby can hear you, and you'll be raising it. If it hears anything it doesn't like then it may take it out on you.'

Mycroft softened slightly. 'I apologise. I did not mean to upset the baby.'

Sherlock held onto John tighter. 'Come on. We've got a private jet, so questions won't be asked.'

'Right. OK. Can I get dressed first? I don't want to show up in a hospital gown.'

'There're clothes onboard waiting for you,' Sherlock said, readjusting John in his arms as he began to carry him to the private jet.

'Wait... the jet's here at the hospital?'

'Yes. We need to get you out of here soon, and we didn't think it wise for you to do a lot of walking. Come on.' Sherlock carried him into the jet and put him down, handing him some clothes. 'These might be a little tight on you. All your baggy clothes are packed. You can change in the toilet.'

'OK. Be right back.' He pecked Sherlock on the lips and then went straight for the loo. He had to pee already, so he simply stripped down and sat down, pulling his shirt on while he pissed. When he finished he pulled on his pants and trousers, his belly resting over the waistband a tad uncomfortably. He'd unbutton them when he sat down. He washed his hands and ran them over his face. What the hell was he getting himself into? He sighed and shook his head, exiting the loo and sitting by Sherlock.

'Ready to go when you are.'

'OK. Buckle in.' Sherlock grabbed the seatbelt and pulled it over John's protruding stomach. 'You can remove it once we're in flight. I know it's uncomfortable. How's David?'

'Feels like he's doing somersaults in there,' he groaned. 'Hold on.' He unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers and breathed out in relief. 'There. That's better. Not so much pressure on him now.'

'Mmmm. Good.' Sherlock rubbed John's stomach soothingly. Mycroft sat down at the very back of the jet and the engines started up. 'Hold on tight. You too, little one.'

John gripped Sherlock's hand tight as the jet sped up and took off, John's stomach lurching as they tilted up into the sky, his ears popping as they soared higher and higher before finally levelling out. He let go of Sherlock's hand, noticing how red it looked, and flushed slightly.

'Sorry. Not a big fan of planes.'

'I hope David doesn't have your fear of flight,' Sherlock joked lightly, ignoring how his hand was throbbing now. 'It could be rather problematic.'

'He's part angel. I'm sure those instincts of flight will overpower any fear he may have for it.' John eyed Sherlock's hand and flushed darker. 'Sorry about your hand.'

'It's fine,' Sherlock grunted, resting his head against his seat and shoving his hand in his jean pocket. 'I'm gonna try and catch some kip. It's been about three days since I've actually slept. Will you be OK?'

'I should be. Your brother's here. He can help me if I need anything, right?'

Sherlock nodded and smiled sleepily. 'Yeah. He'll be here for you. You're carrying his nephew after all. Night, night.' He hummed, stretching out in his seat, his eyelids slipping shut.

John kissed his cheek and unbuckled his seat belt, ambling back awkwardly to the loo. It'd only been a few minutes and he already felt like his bladder was bursting.

Sherlock slept like a baby. It was highly unusual for angels to sleep for so long but he was exhausted. Three days without sleep and worrying for both John's health and David's had really taken a toll on him. At least he could be a little relaxed whilst he was on the flight. The moment he would hit Earth again Sherlock would go back to his paranoid, overprotective self and he wouldn't sleep a wink. He wondered how John was. After all, he'd eaten a hell of a lot of ice cream. It was probably kicking in right about now. Their little boy would be making quite a fuss.

John groaned and clutched at his stomach, still perched on the loo. The baby was dancing around in the womb, the sugar affecting him dramatically. He reached out and clutched the sink, gasping as the baby began kicking slightly at his lungs.

'Fuck!' he cried, gasping for air.

Sherlock groaned and woke up. He stood and stretched out his wings. John was nowhere in sight so he was probably in the bathroom. Sherlock walked straight into it without knocking, only to find John pissing like a race horse whilst clutching his stomach.

'Baby playing bouncy castle on your bladder?'

'Gah!' John screamed, startled. 'Jesus Christ! Learn to knock! But yes, he seems to be kicking out every chance he gets. He was nailing me in the lungs not too long ago, though he stopped when I wasn't getting enough air and coincidently he wasn't either.'

'Now, now. We fuck and you're carrying my child. We don't have any boundaries.' Sherlock knelt down and placed his hands on John's belly, shushing the bump. 'You can squirm around as much as you like but try not to kick. David, I know you love your daddy. Just stop. You're hurting him.'

'Please. And stop dancing on my bladder!' John huffed. He finished his current piss and waited for the next round to start. 'I haven't been out of here in maybe an hour. I'm fucking dehydrated. I need some water. And a lot of it.'

'I'll get you some.' Sherlock kissed John's head and popped out of the loo, returning with two litres of water. 'Here you are.'

'Oh, thank you,' John sighed. He opened the first water bottle and guzzled it down quickly. He sighed in content when he finished it, drinking the second at a slower pace.

'Mmm. Much better. Thanks.'

'Mmm. Enjoy another hour of pissing,' Sherlock said with a grin. The baby went back to bouncing on his daddy's bladder, all that water in John's stomach upsetting him.

'Oh fuck,' John groaned, holding his stomach, his face contorted in pain. 'Oh Sherlock, help, please. Make it stop.'

'David,' he whispered softly. 'Please stop. As much as we're glad you're OK, you're making John need the loo a lot. That isn't nice. Shhh, my love. Shhh.' He rested his head on John's belly and hummed.

'Oh.' John melted slightly, relaxing considerably. 'Oh, he likes that. Sing to him, Sherlock. Maybe he'll go to sleep.'

Sherlock smiled and began to sing an angel lullaby, the baby settling down after a while. 'That's it, my love. Sleep. Let John have some rest. You'll be bouncing about soon I imagine, but sleep for now.'

'Mmm. Thanks.' John hummed, feeling extremely tired from the lullaby and all the peeing. 'Can you help me to my seat? I need to take a nap. Unless... Do you want to join the Mile High Club?' he asked with a smirk.

Sherlock purred loudly. 'Oh yes. Come on. Turn around, Watson. I'll shag you so hard you'll be sleeping for days.'

'Oh, yes, please,' John whimpered. He stood up and turned around, grasping the sink for balance, his pants and trousers still around his ankles. Sherlock growled and tore his own trousers and pants off. He prepared John with swift precision and pushed inside. He held John's belly as he thrust long and hard, the baby waking up, wondering why his home was shaking.

'Oh fuck!' John cried. He grasped the sink harder and spread his legs a bit wider, gasping as Sherlock found his prostate.

'You better cum soon!' Sherlock groaned. 'David will make you pay hell for this later. He's already rebelling about our movements.'

'He's making me have to piss again,' John groaned. 'If I cum I'm gonna piss all over the floor. Oh fuck! Right there! Don't stop!'

Sherlock pounded faster, clutching John's belly. 'God, fuck. I'm way too turned on about that. Go for it! Piss yourself! Fuck! Cumming!'

'Got a piss kink there, Mr Holmes?' John grinned cheekily, moaning loudly as he felt Sherlock cumming, his cock throbbing in his arse. His own cock throbbed as he began cumming, the baby pressing down on his bladder rather harshly and causing him to piss all over the floor. He moaned in ecstasy and arched against Sherlock, his body trembling with all kinds of relief.

'Ah! God yes! More! Pissing everywhere! Let our baby know that we're boss. Oh god! Uh! Can I get you more water? Yes! Please say yes!'

'Yes,' John moaned, feeling the baby kick against his bladder again, which spasmed slightly. 'God yes. More. More!'

Sherlock grunted and pulled out. 'Be right back.' He went out, ignoring his brother's looks, and fetched six bottles of water. 'Drink up. I want our baby to have a nice full bladder to bounce on.'

John grabbed the first bottle and drank it quickly, David protesting already. John grabbed a second bottle and chugged it, belching loudly from the pent up gas in his stomach.

'You know,' he said almost conversationally as he opened another bottle, 'it's physically impossible for a man to piss while fully erect. Want to see how long I can go before I piss myself?'

'Oh yes!' Sherlock growled. 'Drink every last drop. See how long you last.'

'How long till we land?' John asked before guzzling his third drink.

'Half an hour, tops. You'll be wanting to piss on your way to the safe house too, and all night probably. No sleep for my nice, round John. Drink the other three and we'll be all set.'

'Fuck, I need to piss already,' John groaned as he opened the fourth bottle. David was not happy at all. He was pushing on John's bladder, trying to get it to shrink down so he'd have more room in the womb. John gasped as he felt the desperate urge to let go.

'Sherlock! Sherlock get me hard! Now! Before I piss myself already!'

Sherlock reached around and began wanking John till he was fully erect. 'There. Now drink the rest all up. Haven't got all day.'

'Just make sure I don't cum. Because as soon as I cum this is all over. Just keep me nice and hard. If I feel like I'm gonna cum I'll stop you.' He took a large gulp of the fourth bottle, slowing down slightly as his bladder and stomach were so full already.

'God, John,' Sherlock groaned, his hand still moving up and down. 'Have you seen how fucking round you are? You look almost three months gone. Drink more! More!'

'Three months after only a fucking week?!' John asked incredulously. He looked down at his stomach and frowned. Holy shit. He was so much bigger than he remembered. 'How... How long was I asleep in the hospital? I don't remember being this big.'

'Only three days.' Sherlock squeezed John's belly. 'You're gonna be fucking ginormous by the time he's finished growing. Fuck! You won't be able to move. You'll look like a planet!'

'Three days?! I was asleep for three days and you didn't think to tell me?!'

'Why do you think I was so scared? Why I was gonna remove David? I'm sorry.'

'I thought you were worried about what happened in the womb! I didn't know I was asleep for three days! No one told me that! Not even the doctor!' He took a large gulp of water and shivered as a stab of desperation hit, David pushing against his filling bladder, wanting it to empty.

'Calm it,' Sherlock hushed. 'Can't we be happy? I almost lost you both back there. And now you're both alive and kicking. It doesn't matter. Just drink the rest and I'll take you on a ride of a lifetime.'

'I... I'm calm,' John panted, clutching the water bottle tight. 'Just... don't stop moving your hand. Feel like I need to piss pretty bad.' He finished his fourth water bottle and opened a fifth, groaning as Sherlock began moving his hand faster and squeezing a little harder.

'We... we can be happy,' he panted out. 'I feel pretty happy right now. I only wish you'd told me I was asleep for three days. So, that means it's... Thursday now? Almost Friday?' He drank his fifth bottle in large gulps, tossing it to the floor and waiting for Sherlock to answer him before grabbing the sixth and final one.

'Yeah. Almost Friday. Now can you shut up? I was worried sick for three days straight. I didn't sleep at all. I just wanna forget about it.'

'Oh.' John's face fell in realisation. 'Those three days you mentioned earlier... They were the three days I was asleep.' He crooked a finger under Sherlock's chin and tilted his head up, making him stand so they could kiss softly.

'I'm sorry,' he said when they pulled away. 'I'm so sorry. I didn't realise. Forgive me for being an idiot?'

'I forgive you,' Sherlock said softly. 'Now drink the sixth bottle. I can feel David really getting agitated now. We need to give him some relief.'

'Not yet.' John grinned and opened the final bottle. 'I wanna see how long I can last.' He held the bottle to his lips and drank it tantalisingly slow, teasing himself and Sherlock.

'Mmm. Bloody tease!' Sherlock started to rub John's large and distended belly, David really not happy now. He was flipping and turning and bouncing against the inflated organs pressing down on his home, begging to be able to move properly again. John hummed as he continued drinking the last bottle, his free hand grasping Sherlock's on his cock and moved them together.

Sherlock grinned and pushed his waiting cock into John the moment he had finished the bottle. He began to move quickly and David began to slosh around in his home once more. John tossed the bottle aside and moaned, pushing back on Sherlock's cock and moving their hands faster, feeling heat coiling low in his belly. He wasn't sure if it was from his bladder or his erection. Possibly a combination of the two. He stilled their hands and allowed Sherlock to continue moving inside him.

'David is so unhappy,' he moaned softly. 'He wants his home to be bigger again. Wants me to void my bladder. I don't want to yet. I'd piss all over us. Oh god. I need to go so bloody bad. Ugh! Fuck! Sherlock!' He started moving their hands again to keep himself from pissing all over the floor. They were already standing in a small puddle of his own piss, and he didn't want to add to it yet. Sherlock could feel David kicking out almost angrily now. John's stomach was rippling with movement. He rubbed it and squeezed it tenderly.

'Our baby boy wants you to piss everywhere! He'll tell you to piss later too. You just swallowed six bottles of water. Come on! Piss! Piss all over us!'

'No! Not yet!' John groaned, moving their hands faster. 'Please not yet. Oh god, let me hold it. Oh fuck. I love it so much. This isn't the first time I've done this you know.' He glanced back at Sherlock, smiling coyly. 'Played a hold it game with myself. I once went for almost fourteen hours without a piss. I was absolutely bursting by the end of it. I pissed my pants in front of the loo. And I was rock hard afterward. So hard. Tenting my pants, nearly poking out through the gap in the front. I brought myself off in my piss soaked pants, cumming so hard my knees were weak. Best fucking orgasm of my life. Oh god!' His bladder was spasming despite his being rock hard, and he felt like he was going to burst any second. His legs were shaking from the fucking and his need to piss and cum. Too bad he couldn't do both at the same time, but it was physically impossible. He whimpered loudly and leant back so his head could rest on Sherlock's shoulder, arching his back so his stomach pushed out further, David pressing on his bladder harder.

'Fuck, Sherlock,' he gasped, panting hard. 'Oh god. I need to piss so bad. Not yet. Not yet. Let me hold it. Not yet.'

Sherlock grunted and moved harder. 'Piss! That's an order!' he yelled, his tone of voice demanding. 'You know you want to! Piss yourself! Get yourself completely soaked in the stuff! Come on! David is getting very angry with you. He wants you to piss yourself! Come on!'

'Fuck!' John cried, cumming from Sherlock's demanding tone and how his movements on his cock had picked up without his notice. As soon as he finished he felt the demanding pressure in his bladder increase to unbearable and his cried out as he began pissing heavily, drenching their pants, trousers, and legs. He was visibly shaking now, barely able to hold himself up if it weren't for Sherlock. He whimpered and cried out some more as he continued to piss, little David squirming happily as his home expanded.

Sherlock moved faster as John continued to piss. He'd gone through six bottles of water. This could take awhile. He came hard and just for the fun of it pissed up John's arse. John hadn't been the only one holding a bladder full of urine. They were bloody soaked but both of them kept on pissing. John gasped and shuddered violently, seeing spots, his vision blurring. Fuck. He was gonna fucking faint.

'Hey! Stay with me! Focus on how good this all feels! Hmm.' Sherlock nipped John's neck to try and keep him alert.

'That... That's what... What's making me... Want to... To... Oh god.' He was sinking down to the floor he was so weak. He couldn't hold himself up anymore. It all felt so fucking good. He never wanted it to end. His vision was blurring around the edges now, he couldn't really focus on anything except the fact he was still pissing. It was euphoric, and it was too much.

Sherlock pulled himself out and hugged John, sitting in a pile of piss together. 'It's OK. I got ya. Don't faint. Think of little David. It might harm him.'

'But if I... Faint in your... Your arms... I'll be fine... Right?' John said slowly, his heart beating far too fast. Even David seemed worse than when his bladder was full.

'Stay the fuck awake!' Sherlock roared. 'You're upsetting David. He doesn't feel good. Snap out of it!'

'So tired,' John frowned, settling back in Sherlock's arms, his eyes fluttering shut. 'I just wanna... wanna sleep.'

'Come on. Up ya get. The plane is gonna land.' Sherlock tugged at John gently and pulled him into a standing position.

'Ugh, no,' John whined, his body still too limp to stand. He slipped down to the floor again and closed his eyes. 'Just let me sleep. Please. I'm so tired. I've been pissing for hours and I just had two orgasms. Please just let me sleep. Please.'

'In your own piss?' Sherlock asked softly. 'We're almost at the safe house. It'll be far comfier falling asleep on a bed than a piss covered floor.'

'I'll fall asleep in the car then,' John grumbled. 'Where are we anyway?'

'Italy.' Sherlock hummed and scooped up a piss covered John, taking him back to his seat, ignoring Mycroft's scoff of disapproval. He buckled John in and rubbed his tightly squeezed stomach. 'Sorry little one.'

'Italy?' John grinned sleepily, resting his head on Sherlock's shoulder as they began their descent, John's head spinning slightly. Oh great. Motion sickness now. He began gagging as the plane flew down, his ears popping again as they dove lower and lower.

'Shhh. It's OK. Hold my hand.' Sherlock grabbed hold of John's hand and unbuckled himself so he could sit on John's lap, massaging his taut stomach, little David still kicking up a fuss and clearly making John want to piss again.

'I feel sick,' John groaned, writhing uncomfortably in his seat. 'I don't wanna barf on you. Move. Sherlock, move. Please. Oh god.' He clamped a hand over his mouth and began gagging again, the pressure in his head increasing, and David bouncing on his bladder again wasn't helping.

Sherlock clamped his hands around John's head, soothing the pressure. 'You're not gonna vomit. You might piss yourself though.'

'Don't wanna piss in front of your brother,' John groaned, cupping himself to stave off the flow.

'You may as well,' Mycroft sighed. 'You're already getting piss on my seats anyway.'

The jet hit the ground with a violent thud. John let go with a loud gasp, gripping the arms of his seat tight as he pissed himself yet again. Sherlock grunted as the liquid quickly covered both himself and John.

'Good boy,' he praised. John's body was shaking again, though now he was cold from the cooling piss on his body.

Sherlock kissed John and moaned softly. 'You are the hottest thing since the sun was invented. God, so full of my child, covered in piss, so vulnerable.'

John huffed a laugh and kissed Sherlock back, jolting forward slightly when the jet came to a complete stop.

'Can I sleep now?' he asked, yawning widely.

'Yeah. You can,' Sherlock whispered softly, unbuckling John and stroking his belly. 'You should both sleep.'

John closed his eyes and almost instantly fell asleep. He was jostled awake slightly when Sherlock picked him up, but fell asleep again relatively quickly.

Sherlock carried John into the taxi cab and laid him on his lap, the bumpy ride upsetting David a little but the baby was as tired as his father and slept. Mycroft gave him the keys to the safe house and some money before leaving them alone. Sherlock stripped them both of their piss-covered clothes. He laid them both down on a bed and wrapped his arms around John's fat belly. He couldn't wait for him to get larger with his child. He grinned and pushed down on John's stomach, little David doing several back flips in excitement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to those of you who don't like squicky piss stuff. I'd never written it before this, but I'd read some other Sherlock desperation fics to get a general idea of what's supposed to happen and how quickly. Well, we sort of took some creative liberties with reality given John's pregnancy and how being pregnant makes people feel like they have to piss a lot more. I don't even know. It was my first time writing bladder desperation and wetting, so please forgive me if it sucks.
> 
> Next chapter should hopefully be up next Tuesday. We'll see you then.
> 
> TSA + IB


	20. Three Months

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all. Sorry for not posting on Tuesday. I've had a busy week. I'm taking a break from studying to post this because I feel bad about not posting this sooner.
> 
> InvisibleBlade: Sherlock and Mycroft  
> Me: John
> 
> Trigger Warnings: gore, blood, murder, cutting, more blood, attempted suicide
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: angst doesn't even begin to cover it, so much fucking angst, so much angst

Three months. Three very long, very exhausting months had gone by since they'd arrived in Italy. It was a quaint little village, small, out of the way, sparsely populated, perfect for hiding an illegal angel baby. In fact, there wasn't a single angel in the village. John wasn't sure that was possible. Surely  _someone_  had an angel? But it appeared like there was no sign of angel life anywhere other than Sherlock. No angels soaring through the open sky, warming their wings in the sun, watching over their humans as they worked or played. None. It was perfect. They'd never get caught. Except the one time they almost did.

It was the first and only time Sherlock had allowed him out of the safe house. John had wanted to explore the local village. He'd always wanted to travel to Italy, and now that he was here he wanted to explore. Sherlock allowed him out on one condition: he had to come with him. John negotiated that Sherlock would hang back, thirty paces or so, so that it wouldn't seem like Sherlock was hovering over him protectively. At first it had gone well without a hitch. John purchased some food from the vendors, using what little Italian he knew to bargain prices, and even purchased some clothes for Sherlock. John figured it would seem too suspicious if he bought bigger clothes for himself, so he bought Sherlock two new shirts, a soft cotton blend in a deep green and one that felt like silk in a dark purple.

It wasn't until he was walking home, Sherlock having mysteriously disappeared, that everything had gone wrong. Three local boys came up to him and began shoving him about, speaking to him too quickly for him to understand. Though he picked out some slurs about the English people and something about his mother that just wasn't true. Then the fat jokes started and they began poking at his large belly, little David protesting and kicking out at the offending pokes to his home. The boys all stopped and John held his stomach protectively, staring at them all with fear in his eyes. Suddenly one pushed him to the ground, the others yelling something about him being a dirty sinner, his baby a demon, and they needed to get rid of it. John and screamed for Sherlock, curling into the fetal position to protect little David from their harsh kicks, when suddenly the kicking stopped and a loud snarling sound could be heard. He blinked and looked up, a new kind of fear taking over as he saw Sherlock savagely ripping the three boys to shreds, blood everywhere. John quickly picked up his things and dashed back to the house, locking himself in his room and closing the window for good measure. He'd never seen Sherlock so... violent before. He knew he was super protective because of the baby and all, but he'd never imagined that Sherlock would ever kill someone so brutally because of it. When Sherlock popped in his room, covered in blood from head to toe, John screamed at him to get out, curling against his stomach protectively again. He didn't want Sherlock anywhere near him. Especially not when he looked like Hannibal Lector after a rather resistant kill. Sherlock left and didn't return, and John was fine with that. He didn't trust Sherlock at the moment. He wasn't even sure he knew who Sherlock was anymore, if he'd known him at all that is. He stayed in his room for a week, only coming out to use the loo and grab the food Sherlock left outside his door every hour like clockwork. By the time John emerged, still extremely cautious about being in Sherlock's presence, he was rounder with child than when he went in. Sherlock stared at his belly longingly as John made himself some pasta. He knew Sherlock wanted to feel David press up against his hand, but he knew Sherlock knew John wouldn't allow it. He didn't want Sherlock's hands anywhere on his body.

That was three months ago and John was still cautious whenever Sherlock came into the room. He'd at least allowed Sherlock to curl up against him whenever he managed to sleep, but that was it. If John was awake, Sherlock was not allowed to touch him. At all. Ever. He looked down at his enormous belly, looking like he was seven months along instead of three. Six more months of this and he'd look like he was carrying twins, maybe even triplets, instead of one single baby. It wouldn't even be a baby at that point. Sherlock had said toddler size by the time it was ready to be born. There was no way John would be able to carry it to term. The baby would break him. His stomach was already covered in bruises of all shades and sizes and stages of healing. He was worried that when the baby got stronger he'd break bone. He placed his hands on his stomach and felt David moving around, though he was a lot calmer than he normally was. Perhaps he was simply tossing and turning in his sleep. Lucky baby. John hadn't had a decent night's sleep since the attack, and he doubted he ever would. Nightmares of Sherlock ripping the baby out of the womb with his teeth plagued him nightly. Sometimes Sherlock took the baby and killed John, telling him he never wanted him, only the baby. And now that he had what he wanted he didn't need John anymore, and he ripped his throat out with his teeth. John would wake up screaming, clutching at his belly and his throat, drenched in sweat and sometimes piss. He would curl up and sob for hours, ignoring his hunger until he couldn't stand it anymore and ate everything in the house, making Sherlock have to go out and get more. Finally he got smart and had Mycroft deliver food to the house, enough food to last through an apocalypse, and maybe the pregnancy too. John assumed any food left over would mainly be for David to consume until he got his smaller appetite like the rest of the angels.

Three bloody months of being cooped up in the house, only venturing out to the backyard to soak up some sun and possibly a quick nap, constantly avoiding Sherlock because of the fear. John was worried sick and he knew David felt it too, but there was little he could do. He was scared of Sherlock, plain and simple, and unless Sherlock did something to prove to John that he could still be gentle and not an animalistic killer, then their relationship would be over before it truly had a chance to begin. Three whole months of not being able to touch or have contact with his baby... just because Sherlock had wanted to protect the two people who he treasured most. He tried reaching out to John but he was having none of it. He was terrified of him. And John hid away from him like he was some sort of monster. Angel babies weren't supposed to have their relationship cut off with their parents. It was stressful for the baby and it was said to drive the parents insane. Sherlock was decidedly insane.

He held a knife in one hand and was slicing the skin on his right arm open. He carved out two words.

_I'm sorry._

He hadn't meant to scare John, hadn't meant to kill those boys, hadn't meant to fuck up everything. A sea of red leaked from his veins and he collapsed to the ground. He moved the knife into the air and shoved it through his stomach three times and in his chest once for good measure.

'I'm so sorry, little man!' He begged for mercy as he bled out, the knife dropping from his blood coated fingers. 'David! David! I want my baby! I want my love! Please! I'm sorry! Forgive me! I have sinned! Forgive me!'

He was so glad John was outside and away from his cries. Glad that this was where he'd die and that everything was going to end.

'David!' he screamed for his unborn baby. 'I want my little David! P-p-please!'

John gasped awake, awoken from his dream because of a sharp pain in his stomach and now his chest. He gasped for air. He felt like he'd been stabbed. David was squirming around, he was worried. Sherlock. Oh no. God no.

John struggled to stand and waddled into the house, finding Sherlock in a heap on the floor, lying in a puddle of blood, a knife clutched loosely in his hand.

'Sherlock!' John cried, falling to his knees by Sherlock's side. He turned his head slowly so he could look at him, taking his pulse. 'Sherlock! No! No! Don't die on me! Don't die on us! On David!' He took Sherlock's knife free hand and pressed it against his stomach, David kicking and pushing against his palm.

Sherlock's head flopped to one side, his eyes glazed over, a piss weak smile tugging at his features as he felt his baby kick. 'S-orry D-avid. Daddy doesn't want me around you,' he gasped out. 'I'll see ya on the other side.' His hand slipped and his eyes closed.

'No! No! Sherlock!' John sobbed, pulling his hand back up to his belly. 'M-Mycroft! Help! Please!'

Mycroft came running. 'Sherlock!' he cried in horror, kneeling down beside his baby brother. He hovered his hands over Sherlock's wounds and they healed nicely. He scooped him up in his arms and carried him to bed.

'You!' He pointed to John accusingly. 'Stop keeping David away from him! It's killing him inside. Look at what you made him do! Make this better!'

'He killed three local boys in front of me!' John cried, holding his belly protectively. 'He ripped them apart with his bare hands and tore their flesh with his teeth! I'm terrified, Mycroft! Terrified for me and the baby. What if Sherlock turns on us? It's been known to happen. I did my research. I don't want him to kill us!'

'He's not going to hurt you, or the baby! He killed those boys because they hurt you! He had every right to attack and kill them! Can you not see how much he adores you? How he thinks you'll be happier without him so he tried to off himself? Did you see what he wrote into his arm? He wrote that he was sorry! Sorry for what? He acted out of instinct. Every angel would have acted in the same way. Stop punishing him!'

'I'm scared and pregnant and I don't know what the hell is going on!' John cried, tears falling down his cheeks. 'I want to be around Sherlock, I do, but all I can see is him covered in blood and... I can't be near him. I'm scared, Mycroft. So incredibly scared and I don't know what to do.'

Mycroft sighed and softened slightly. 'Come in here a minute.' He ushered John into the room where Sherlock was sleeping and placed him at the bottom of the bed. Sherlock looked so vulnerable. He was shaking and whimpering, curled up in a tight ball.

'Do you really think that he is capable of hurting you? Can't you feel David reaching out to his daddy? They need each other, John.'

'Of course I can bloody feel it,' John huffed, feeling his stomach bruise as David pressed especially hard, trying to escape and be near Sherlock. 'And... I know he couldn't hurt me without endangering David. And I also know he cares more for the baby than me. I know the baby prefers Sherlock too. But I'm still so scared. I have constant nightmares of Sherlock killing me and taking the baby. Or I die during childbirth and Sherlock doesn't even grieve. He has the baby, which is all he's really wanted since he... impregnated me, and he's happy. He has his son, his family, and he's happy. He doesn't need me.'

John choked on a sob and wiped at his eyes. 'I know it sounds stupid, but that's how I feel. It's been my entire life experience for people to use me until they didn't need me anymore and then they just left. They always leave.'

'Your fears are not rational. He and you are bonded and mated. That is an unbreakable bond. I know for a fact that he loves you dearly. You were unconscious for three days and in those three days he contemplated killing David so you could live. He also told me that if things were different he'd have married you by now. He loves you and you've blocked complete contact from him.'

'I don't even know him!' John protested. 'We've known each other five months and we've never had an actual conversation. The only thing I've learned about him so far, as a person and not my angel, is that he likes to play the violin to help calm his mind. It's just so hard to try to get to know someone who already knows everything about you.'

'You could try asking him,' Mycroft suggested, smiling softly. 'I really would get to know him. You're carrying his child after all. Seems silly to not know anything about him. Please try to reach out to him. He nearly died today. He'd kill himself before losing your bond together.'

David kicked harshly against his daddy's stomach and bounced down on his bladder like a speeding torpedo, desperate to be close to his other daddy.

'Ugh – fuck,' John groaned, clutching his large stomach in pain. 'Help me to the loo. I don't want to piss all over Sherlock's bed.'

Mycroft quickly got John to the toilet. Just in time too.

'You see, he is not happy at all,' Mycroft said quietly. 'Reunite him with his other father.'

'I'll curl up next to him in bed,' John huffed, smoothing a hand over his belly, David kicking at his hand. 'Would that work?'

'It will be a start, yes.' Mycroft smiled in satisfaction.

'OK. Help me up. I need to wash my hands. Then help me into Sherlock's bed.'

Mycroft awkwardly helped John up and helped him over to the sink. 'Is it becoming uncomfortable to move?' he asked gently.

'A little,' John answered, washing his hands slowly. 'It's getting harder to move on my own. I actually waddle now.' He frowned slightly and dried his hands. Mycroft helped him to Sherlock's room up onto the bed beside Sherlock.

'Take care of my baby brother and nephew, John. They're the only family I have.'

'I'll do my best,' John said softly, crawling up so he could rest his head on Sherlock's shoulder. He twined the fingers of their hands together and placed them on his stomach, David pressing up against them in greeting. Sherlock frowned in his sleep and wriggled a little closer cautiously, his fingers splaying out. He kissed the warm body beside him lovingly and sighed happily.

'Good. I'll leave you three in peace.' Mycroft quickly left.

'Thanks for your help,' John whispered softly, knowing Mycroft would hear him. He pressed a soft kiss to Sherlock's forehead and snuggled in against him, feeling David relax for the first time in three months. Perhaps he'd finally get some sleep. He was snoring in minutes, David calm and safe between his daddies.

**…::-::…**

When Sherlock awoke, he removed himself from John. He had no idea how he'd gotten there or why he wasn't dead but it didn't matter. What did matter was that John wanted nothing to do with him in his waking hours and he'd be waking up soon. Sherlock locked himself in the bathroom and cried softly to himself. When he felt his daddy pull away, David protested dramatically. He kicked and punched and flapped his wings, trying to wake John up. He did, and clutched at his stomach, groaning in pain. When he opened his eyes he realised why David was so upset. Sherlock was gone.

'Sherlock?' John groaned out. 'Sherlock?' David gave John a harsh kick in a kidney and he cried out in pain, his eyes swimming with tears. 'Sherlock! Sherlock! Get back here! Help!'

Sherlock ran back into the room, his eyes red from crying but alert. 'Yes?' he asked softly. 'Um, is it OK if I come closer?'

'Yes! Yes, it's fine,' John gasped out as David kicked a lung. 'Make him stop! Please! It hurts! Can't breathe!'

Sherlock ran to John and jumped onto the bed, pushing his thin and malnourished body against John's large stomach. 'Shhh. Be nice for daddy.'

'Sherlock.' John frowned as he ran his hands down his sides, feeling his ribs. 'Why haven't you been eating? Was it because of me?'

'Just not hungry,' Sherlock murmured softly.

'Please eat something,' John said softly, stroking his fingertips along Sherlock's jaw. 'I don't like it when you don't eat.'

'And here I was thinking you hated me through and through.'

'I never hated you, Sherlock.' John frowned, cupping Sherlock's cheek in his palm. 'I was scared. I've never seen you so... ballistic before. You were like an animal. It was beyond frightening to watch. And there was so much blood. Too much.' He was tearing up now. 'You scared the shit out of me when you killed those boys. I thought your instincts were going to take over and you'd hurt me next. It's been known to happen in angels. I did my research while I was hiding in my room. I just didn't want you to turn on me. Like you did when you impregnated me. That was instinct, and you couldn't stop. I didn't want it to happen again, but this time I had a whole other reason for wanting to live.'

Sherlock broke down sobbing. 'You have no idea what I've fucking been through these past few months because I thought you hated me! I haven't eaten! I haven't slept properly! I cried myself to sleep when I actually did! I've cut! I've tried to kill myself using various methods! I would never hurt you or our baby! Never! I killed those boys because they hurt you! They were trying to kill David! But most importantly they were bullying you!'

John started crying too, clutching Sherlock close. 'I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I was stupid but I was so scared. All I could see was you covered in blood and I just– I was so scared! I had dreams of you murdering me after I had the baby. Of you eating me like a cannibal. So much blood. Too much blood!'

'Cannibal?! Christ, John,' Sherlock choked out. 'I love you! I love you so much! And now I'm suddenly a monster who apparently eats his own children? I really wish I had died!'

'You didn't eat the baby,' John choked out softly. 'You took the baby from me and ate  _me_.  _Only_  me. Like you only wanted me to have the baby and as soon as you had no use of me you killed me. It's been a recurring nightmare. Especially you covered in blood and coming after me.'

'That isn't true!' Sherlock snapped. 'You've always come first. The baby second. I loved you before the baby came along!' David kicked out and Sherlock groaned. 'That doesn't mean I love you any less!'

'I know it's not true! They're only nightmares for fuck's sake! I haven't been sleeping either, because every time I close my eyes I see you covered in blood. And I wish I could just erase that image from my mind but I can't. It's like it's seared into my retinas. I can't sleep, Sherlock. All I want is to bloody sleep and not be scared.'

Sherlock rolled off of John. 'There is a way for you to forget that. Care to hear me out?'

'I'll hear you out, sure,' he said softly. 'Just stay close to David. The further away you get the more he kicks.'

Sherlock pushed himself closer and David kicked gently. 'Well, you seemed pretty chill when we were on the plane making you hold six bottles of water... and, well... I imagine that it'll be harder to hold it now. I wanna rekindle our love and I would love to do it again like that. Cuz that was back before you were scared of me. And it was fun.'

'You want to see me piss my pants?' John grinned, a hand trailing down Sherlock's arm before linking their fingers together.

Sherlock laughed darkly. 'No. I specifically want you to hold it this time. Fourteen hours or I don't make love to you. Reasonable enough?'

'Sherlock, I can't go fourteen hours without pissing with this baby in me,' he scowled. 'And besides, we don't have to make love to rekindle what we had. I was just discussing with Mycroft how I don't know anything about you other than you like to play the violin. So why don't we just have some dinner and chat?'

Sherlock pouted. 'Dinner and a chat I can do, but can you at least try to last? I don't care if you don't. I'm just curious. I'll tell David to quiet down. It'll be fun. And I suppose it'll be Italian food with ice cream again for dinner.'

'Sounds good,' John grinned. 'Now help me up. I don't want to roll over and squish David.' He held his hands out to Sherlock and made grabby motions at him, grinning brightly. Sherlock grinned and helped John into a sitting position, wrapping his arms around his belly.

'Oh, John. Look at how wonderful this is. David is beautiful.'

'Can you see him?' He smoothed a hand over his belly, David pressing against it softly. 'Or are you simply saying that because I'm so round with your child that he's beautiful?'

'Both.' Sherlock kissed John softly. 'Oh god, John. You're already bursting with my baby and we're only three months in.'

'You can see him though?' He tilted Sherlock's head up so they could look at each other. 'What's he look like? Describe him, please.'

'Right now he looks like a little alien,' Sherlock chuckled. 'But his wings are almost fully formed. They've got to grow some more, however. They're a light brown colour. His hair is black. Curly like mine probably, though it's hard to tell whilst he's still in the womb. He has your cute button nose.' Sherlock poked John's nose and grinned. 'And right now he's falling asleep.'

'Good. Little guy hasn't been sleeping well because of my distancing myself from you. I'm gonna hate myself for a while about that. Can you forgive me?'

'There's nothing to forgive.' Sherlock hugged John tightly. 'Now, shall we start that dinner of ours? Mmm. We need to start filling that bladder of yours too.'

'I can start filling my bladder at dinner. Come on. Help me up. I can waddle out to the kitchen by myself at least. And I wanna watch you cook.'

'Wanna watch my arse wiggle as I move around is more like it.' Sherlock chuckled, heaving them both up. 'Come on. Time to waddle, John.'

'Oh yes. Sexy waddle time,' John joked, placing his hands on his belly and began waddling out to the kitchen.

'Mmm. It is rather sexy,' Sherlock agreed with a wicked grin. 'I've never seen anyone look so delicious.'

'Thanks, though because David's so big already, walking tires me out pretty quickly.' He sat down at the table and turned so he could watch Sherlock move about the kitchen, gathering bow tie pasta, some sauce, some sort of meat, and mixed vegetables. He was passed a glass of water, catching a glimpse of Sherlock's heated cheeks before drinking from it slowly. He wanted to last as long as possible, and if he drank too much at once then the game would be over far too soon.

'Now let's see that arse wiggle while you work,' he said, laughing. Sherlock laughed and turned around, wiggling his arse in the air and dancing across the kitchen floor, subtly bobbing to a beat in his head as he cooked. He slipped John another glass of water, his face bright red this time.

'No need to be embarrassed, love,' John smiled, pulling him down for a quick kiss. 'I'm fine. David's still asleep. We're all good. Don't let the pasta boil over.'

'Whoops!' Sherlock ran over to the pasta and took it off the boil. He poured it into a bowl and covered it in sauce before walking over to John and handing him it. He sat down with a tired sigh and smiled at John. 'Eat up.'

'None for you?' John frowned. 'Sherlock, please, you need to eat. You've lost a lot of weight already. Please make yourself something. I don't want to see you starve.'

'I'll have some crisps. Will that make you happy?' Sherlock sighed heavily and rolled his eyes.

John frowned again. 'Sherlock, I shouldn't be the only one taking care of my body. Just because you aren't carrying a child does not mean that you don't get to take care of yourself. Now, I realise that you weren't eating because of my hiding from you, but things are going to get better now, so please start taking better care of yourself.'

'Fine.' Sherlock got up and shuffled to the remaining pasta, pouring it into a bowl, leaving the sauce. He preferred to eat his pasta dry. He sat down again and sighed. 'Better, doctor?'

'Yes.' John grinned. He dug into his own pasta, eating relatively calmly since David was asleep and not demanding the food get to him as quickly as possible.

'This is delicious, love,' he smiled at Sherlock, wiping some sauce off his chin. 'Wanna have that chat while I drink some more water? My bladder isn't anywhere near full yet.'

Sherlock stabbed his fork into his food and idly twirled a bit of pasta into his mouth. He hummed around the food and swallowed.

'Sure. Go ahead. What do you want to know?'

'Um... Do you play any instruments other than the violin?'

'I play piano.' Sherlock smiled softly. 'I have very talented fingers.'

'Yeah, you do.' John blushed and smirked, drinking his water to hide his flush of arousal. 'I really don't know what I'm doing. What kind of questions do you ask an angel in order to get to know them?'

Sherlock shrugged. 'What kind of questions do you ask normal people to get to know them?'

'I don't know,' John said sadly, looking down into his glass. 'I only have two friends, Mary and Mike, and they both happened by accident. But I really don't know them all that well. I... I'm not the type of person who makes friends easily. I don't know how.'

'Cheer up.' Sherlock smiled and squeezed John's knee underneath the table lightly. 'I'm your friend. Ask me anything. Anything at all.'

'Do you speak any languages other than English?' John said randomly, sipping at his water.

'I probably could,' Sherlock mused. 'But I am programmed to know my owner's language only.'

'Owner?' John scoffed. 'I'm not your owner, Sherlock. You aren't a pet. Besides, at this point, I'm pretty sure you own me.' He pointed to his round belly and smirked, drinking the rest of his glass and asking for more.

Sherlock chuckled and fetched John some more water. 'I definitely own you right now. Well, David does anyway.' He sat down and ate some more of his pasta.

'Oh yes. The little man runs my life right now. I'm just happy he's asleep. Giving me a break finally.'

'You have me to thank for that,' Sherlock said with a smirk.

'Yes, I do. Both for giving me David and for helping him sleep. So, thank you.' He smiled softly and nudged Sherlock's knee with his own. 'I love you. And I'm not just saying that because it makes you happy. I  _do_  love you.'

Sherlock raised his eyebrows. 'You sound almost happy to be with child. What happened to not getting attached?' Sherlock smiled and stroked a finger down John's belly. 'I love you too by the way. I love you both very much.'

'I don't know.' John shrugged. 'I mean, I can't exactly be an active part in David's life, but I've kinda grown to like the little guy. I mean, once you name something you start getting attached to it. Maybe that's what happened. Plus, I'm not as scared about this pregnancy as before, though I'm still scared because I have no idea what the hell is going on. But it is better, and I don't know what changed it, but it's definitely better.'

Sherlock smoothed another hand down John's belly. 'He loves you, ya know. Says you're nice and safe. Hmmm. I think someone's waking up.'

'Uh oh,' John groaned, feeling David roll onto his bladder. 'Not yet please, dear. Your dad and I are having a wonderful conversation.'

Sherlock smiled softly and leaned in closer, peering at John's belly. 'I think our child is telling us that this conversation is closed.'

'What does he want? More food? Or for me to void my bladder? Because he isn't doing much of anything right now other than rolling around. Is he having a bad dream? I know I toss and turn when I have nightmares. Maybe he does too.'

Sherlock got up and moved to press his head against John's stomach. 'Hmm. Perhaps. Or maybe he's just getting restless. He's my child too. He's probably quite bored in there.' He moved away and grabbed a bottle of pills, passing them to John. 'Have you been keeping up with the pills whilst you... were avoiding me?'

'Um... Not exactly,' John admitted, turning away. 'I would take them... but not with every meal. Sometimes I'd forget.'

'John,' Sherlock sighed loudly, but looked at John with soft eyes. 'It's important you take them with every meal. They're vital to David's health.'

'I know,' he sighed, still looking away. 'And sometimes I'd try to compensate by taking an extra dose with my next meal if I'd forgotten, but sometimes I still forgot. I'm sorry.'

'It's fine,' Sherlock said gently. 'Just take your dose now. I'll make sure you take them from now on.'

'OK.' John opened the pill bottle and took one out, popping it in his mouth and swallowing it with more water.

'He'll calm down now,' Sherlock said, smiling gently. 'Back to questions. Anything else you want to ask?'

'I don't know,' John shrugged, rubbing a hand over his belly. 'Is there anything about yourself that you want to share with me?'

Sherlock cocked his head slightly, blushing. 'I, um, like to draw. What I draw is pretty personal though.'

'I do, too.' John smiled softly. 'The last thing I drew before we left was... rather intimate.' He flushed slightly. 'Have you drawn me?'

Sherlock raised an eyebrow and smiled. 'I've drawn you, yes. How could I not when you are the most beautiful thing I've set eyes on?'

John flushed and drank some more water. 'Would you draw me now? Like this? Round with your child?'

Sherlock nodded and grinned widely. 'Yes. Of course. Let me get my art supplies and I'll be back.'

'OK. I'll meet you in the sitting room.'

'Drink some more water before you meet me there.' Sherlock stood and threw a glance back at John before going off to get his art pad and some pencils. John smiled softly and padded over to the fridge, pulling out the pitcher of water and pouring himself another glass. He brought both out to the sitting room with him and sat on the sofa, drinking his glass quickly and pouring himself another.

Sherlock met John in the sitting room, an art pad tucked underneath his arm, a stand to prop it up on, and a range of pencils. He grinned at John.

'All ready for me to draw you?'

'Yeah.' John smiled. 'How do you want me?'

'In whatever position is most comfortable for you. You're going to be here for a couple of hours.'

John thought about that while Sherlock set up his supplies. He settled on resting along the couch, propping himself up with the throw pillows. He rested his hands on his stomach, cradling it, and looked back to Sherlock.

'This OK?'

Sherlock glanced up and melted at the sight of John cradling his unborn child. 'That's fantastic, yeah,' he uttered, a little teary eyed.

'Hey, no tears,' John said softly. 'Get over here and kiss me before you begin.'

Sherlock sniffled and stood to his feet, walking over to John. He clambered on top of him and kissed him tenderly. John hummed into the kiss and held Sherlock's face in his hands, parting his lips so Sherlock's tongue could delve inside. Sherlock explored John's mouth for a long while before he felt a kick right in his gut, forcing him to pull away.

'Ouch,' he huffed. 'That wasn't nice, David.'

'I think he wants you to hurry up and draw us.' John smiled softly. 'I may nap whilst you draw me. I hope you don't mind.'

'It's fine. You look like you're in need of some kip.' Sherlock kissed John once more before clambering off of him and plodding over to his art pad. John placed his hands back in their cradling position, smoothing one over his belly before resuming position and settling against the sofa. He hummed and closed his eyes, making sure his face was turned toward Sherlock before slowly falling asleep.

Sherlock gazed at John lovingly for hours as he drew him splayed out on the sofa, fast asleep, and round with child. He glanced down at the piece of paper occasionally, relying on his hands to do most of the work, the pencil shaping what his eyes were seeing. He smiled once he was done. He was pleased with his drawing. It captured John well and the baby bump was the focus of the picture. He sighed happily and moved over to John, curling up against him once more and falling asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It started out bad but it got better. Next chapter picks up where this one leaves off, and there's smut and more desperation play. So once again, if you don't like that sort of stuff, don't read on. I'm hoping to get the next chapter up on time on Tuesday. If I don't feel free to message me and pester me to post it. I won't mind. Just tell me to get off my lazy ass and post the next chapter ;)
> 
> Until next time,
> 
> TSA + IB


	21. Sexual Experimentation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Sorry for the late update. My semester is drawing to a close and I'm swamped with work and studying and preparing for final exams. There won't be an update for a couple of weeks as I prepare for the end of the semester. I should be done around May 10, so the next update should hopefully be posted on May 13 (but no promises). My friend is graduating from high school on the 12th and I want to go to that, so I'll either post later in the week when I arrive home or the week after.
> 
> Other news: I got a job! I'll be working over the summer and into the new school year. So posting might be delayed or changed to a different day depending on my work schedule. And I also might not post when InvisibleBlade comes to visit in June. So just know that this story will be slowing down for a while.
> 
> Also, this was supposed to be posted an hour ago but my friends dragged me away to dinner and time got away from me. Sorry.
> 
> Now, back to the story.
> 
> InvisibleBlade: Sherlock  
> Me: John
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: fluff, desperation play, bladder control, piss play, squick, a bit of angst, mentions of past parental abuse, dreams, mention of blood, fluff, dream sex, mention of starvation, mention of angel rape, kinky sex, handcuffs and blindfolds, blow jobs.
> 
> I think that covers it. Enjoy!

John woke a few hours later, David kicking up a fuss. He could feel Sherlock next to him, sleeping peacefully, an arm draped over his belly. He groaned softly and stroked his belly softly, feeling David press against his hand. He was hungry. And he wanted John to pee so he'd have more room. Not yet. He groaned and sat up slowly, not wanting to wake Sherlock. He waddled into the kitchen and pulled out the ice cream, eating it right out of the carton.

Sherlock woke up with a soft whine. John was gone. He bolted upright, looking around anxiously. He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw John scarfing down ice cream, some of it dripping down his chin, a hand cupping his belly.

'Hungry?' he asked, getting up and walking over to him.

'David was demanding food and a piss. I was only willing to indulge in one.' He ate some more ice cream. 'I could use some warm food now though. We're both pretty chilled. Soup?'

Sherlock hummed and moved over to a cupboard. He pulled out a tin of soup and poured it into a saucepan, heating it on the stove.

'Thanks, love.' John smiled, finishing the ice cream. He rubbed a hand over his belly, David still kicking up a fuss about the full bladder situation.

'Need help... um... with not pissing your pants?' Sherlock asked, deeply amused.

'Actually, it's not too bad right now. I've been holding it for a few hours and I don't feel all that desperate yet.'

'Mmm. Good. Want to watch a DVD for a little bit whilst we're waiting for the soup?'

'Sure.' John grinned, cleaning his face of ice cream. 'What'd you have in mind? Some  _Doctor Who_?'

'A reader of minds now, are we?' Sherlock laughed loudly, his wings twitching like mad with excitement.

'Sherlock, I'm British. We don't have any other shows besides  _Doctor Who_ ,' John joked. 'Come on. Let's plant ourselves in front of the telly. Oh, and don't let the soup burn. I think it's almost done.'

'Oh, right, yes. Almost forgot.' He bustled over to the stove and took the soup off of it, pouring it into two bowls. 'Come on, sexy mama.' He winked at John. 'Time for  _Doctor Who_.'

'Oh god.' John grimaced. 'Don't call me a sexy mama. I am not a woman in the slightest.' He sat on the sofa and poured himself another glass of water, drinking it slowly.

'I think David would disagree with that,' Sherlock said with a chuckle. 'You're his mother after all.'

'Just because I'm giving birth to him doesn't make me the mother!' John protested. 'You mother us both, and you're more emotional. You are clearly the mother.'

Sherlock gasped, mouth falling open. 'I am not emotional! And I don't mother! I'm simply nesting and preparing for when the little one arrives.'

'Nesting, mothering, same thing.' John grinned softly. 'Sorry. I don't mean to make fun, but your nesting is a lot like mothering.'

'You should be sorry!' Sherlock huffed. 'I do not mother!'

'I think you do.' John smiled softly. 'Come on. Let's relax, eat some soup, and watch some  _Doctor Who_.'

Sherlock huffed again and curled up beside John, his head resting on John's belly. He turned the TV on and a  _Doctor Who_  episode popped into life.

John took the offered bowl of soup and ate it reasonably slow, careful not to spill anything. He set it on the coffee table when he finished and began stroking his fingers through Sherlock's hair, humming softly. He felt like he could sleep again. His eyes started closing against his will and his hand stilled in Sherlock's hair, his head flopping back against the arm of the couch as he fell asleep. Sherlock smiled softly as John slept. He stretched out on the sofa and winced. His wings felt sore from lack of use.

'I'll be back soon. I need to fly,' he whispered. He crawled off of John and walked out to the garden. He gazed up at the sky and flew up into it, flying for the first time in months. John whimpered slightly from the loss of Sherlock's warmth but he slept on. He rolled over onto his side, an arm cradling his belly, and dreamt of travelling through time and space with the Doctor.

Sherlock flew for a couple of hours before returning to his John and his baby, curling up beside them, completely whacked. John hummed in his sleep and pushed back against the warmth behind him. Sherlock had returned. He let out a loud snore before falling back into peaceful dreams. He hadn't slept this much in months, and he was entirely thankful that David seemed to be sleeping peacefully too.

Sherlock smiled, rubbing John's belly. 'I love you both. Never forget that,' he whispered softly. 'I would never hurt you. Never. I couldn't. You're too precious to me.'

'I know that now,' John whispered sleepily. 'And I love you too. And I could really go for some gentle love making right about now.'

Sherlock hummed and began to kiss John's neck. 'Wake up, love. Wake up for daddy Holmes. Grrr.' John moaned and arched into Sherlock's kisses, pushing his belly out further.

'Oh god, Sherlock,' he moaned, rutting against him. 'Take me here on the couch. I need you so bad.'

'Is your bladder nice and full?' Sherlock purred, rutting up against John. 'Come on, David. Help me out here.'

'Yes,' John groaned, feeling David press on it. 'Yes, it's nice and full. Been holding this for about seven hours now. You gonna fuck me with a full bladder?'

'Yup!' Sherlock exclaimed. 'Keep bouncing, David. As harshly as you can now. Thank you. Right. Time to shag you.'

'I can't believe you're having our son help with our kink,' John groaned, feeling David press harder. 'Fuck!'

Sherlock grinned and pulled John's trousers down, along with his own. He prepared John, pushing his fingers in and out as David bounced harder.

'Oh my god,' John gasped, a hand darting down to hold himself. 'Oh shit. Sherlock!'

'Ready for my cock? What do you say David? God! Bounce harder!'

'Fuck me before I piss all over the couch!' John cried, bringing himself to full hardness before he lost complete control.

Sherlock laughed, replacing his fingers with his cock. 'Right, David, every time I thrust you push down, OK?' He laughed again and started thrusting slowly.

'Oh my god,' John groaned, feeling too many intense pressures at once. David on his bladder, Sherlock on his prostate, his heart hammering in his chest. He needed to pee so damn bad now but he didn't want to give in yet. He wanted Sherlock to fuck him until he either couldn't hold it anymore or he came screaming, whichever came first.

Sherlock moaned softly and moved a little quicker, David bouncing in time with his thrusts. 'Don't piss yet! You do that and I won't shag you ever again.'

'You're a right git, I hope you know,' John groaned, circling his thumb and pointer around the base of his cock, forming a makeshift cock ring.

'Alright,' Sherlock grumbled. 'Let go if you must! I'm sure David and I are making it difficult for you.'

'No,' John groaned, tightening his fingers around himself. 'Not yet. Don't wanna piss yet. Fuck me, my gorgeous baby daddy. Fuck me until I cum or piss screaming. Whichever comes first.'

'Call me that again!' Sherlock roared, pounding himself into John frantically.

'Oh fuck!' John cried, his control slipping only slightly, a small trickle escaping him before he could stop himself. 'Gorgeous! My gorgeous baby daddy! Fuck me! Harder!'

Sherlock grabbed John's legs and raised them up so he could reach new angles and move faster.

'Oh my god! Sherlock! Yes! Yes! Oh my god I'm cumming! I'm cumming!' John cried as he spurt over his giant belly, some droplets landing on Sherlock.

'Me too!' Sherlock cried as he came in John's arse. 'Fuck!' he cried out as John's cum was quickly replaced by a waterfall of piss. John gasped and whimpered as he released hours worth of pent up piss, soaking himself, Sherlock, and the sofa. Sherlock shivered, moaned, and groaned. It felt so bloody warm and fantastic.

'Dear lord! That's it! Get it all out!'

Nearly two minutes later and he was still pissing. He felt like he'd taken a shower. A warm, smelly shower. He felt the last trickles come out and he collapsed against the wet sofa, his breath coming out in harsh pants. He looked up at Sherlock and gasped out, 'I need a shower.'

'Mmm.' Sherlock grinned and buried his face in John's shoulder. 'Give me a minute to get my breath back.' His hands ran over John's bulbous stomach and squeezed lightly. 'I think David enjoyed that too.'

'He's only happy because he has room to move now,' John huffed. 'And he's only three months along, Sherlock. I don't want him developing a piss kink yet, or at all for that matter. At least not until he's older. I don't want him pissing in the womb. That's disgusting.'

'I wouldn't worry.' Sherlock smirked. 'I highly doubt he'll start doing that. It is his home after all.'

'I just pissed in  _our_  home,' John pointed out. 'I sincerely hope he doesn't do it in his. Now help me up. I stink.'

'The difference is that he can't escape,' Sherlock retorted. 'And you smell divine, but OK. Come on, up you get mama bear.' He giggled and helped John up.

'Stop calling me stuff like that,' John huffed, groaning as Sherlock pulled him into a sitting position. 'I don't like it. It makes me feel emasculated.'

'Shhh you.' Sherlock's hands were on John's belly, placed on both sides. 'Do you know how sexy you are now that you're cooking my child up? You're my sexy mummy. Just like I'm your sexy baby daddy.'

'But I'm not a woman!' John protested. 'Stop calling me the mum! It's embarrassing!'

'Mmm. I think you like it deep down. Of course you do. You're a doctor. It's in your nature to nurture. Come on, you can't tell me you don't find me calling you that a little sexy. Your eyes are dilated.'

'It's because I'm staring at you you fucking jackass,' John huffed. 'I really don't like it when you call me the mum. I hate it. And fathers can be nurturing too you fucking sexist! That isn't just the woman's job! Now stop fucking calling me the mum!'

'Not from my experience, OK?! Father's abandon you and they don't fucking care!' Sherlock roared right back, so loudly that his lungs ached a little. He jumped to his feet and glared at John. 'Just – fucking take a shower by yourself!' He stormed off, wings ruffling in upmost annoyance.

'You think  _I_  had a good father?!' John shot back, waddling after Sherlock as fast as he could go. 'My father beat me for most of my life! You think I know what it's like to have a happy family life?! I don't! I just know that there's got to be good dads somewhere!' He threw a pillow at Sherlock's back. 'Turn around and talk to me you fucking coward!'

Sherlock spun around, his nostrils flaring. 'Shut up! You don't know a fuck about me or what my experience of family is! So before you call me a bloody coward can you please get all of the facts together?!'

'That's right! I don't know anything about you! Yet you know everything about me! I'm trying to get to know you but I don't know what to do or say and you just shut me out! So go ahead and fly away! Leave me alone with your baby! Just fuck off! I know you want to! Just leave me like everyone else does!' He was crying now, his knees wobbling. He couldn't stand up much longer.

Sherlock's jaw locked and he shook his head. 'No. I am not leaving you or the baby. Because you're my family now and I need to look after you.' He turned and caught John just as he was about to fall. 'I apologise for snapping. You hit a raw nerve of mine.'

'Just stop calling me the mum and we'll be fine,' John huffed, wiping tears from his eyes.

'I'm sorry,' Sherlock sighed. 'I've been a right dick to you.'

'It's fine,' John sighed. 'It's not like I've been much better the past few months. Avoiding you and all.'

'You had every right to,' Sherlock murmured. 'I killed those boys without a second thought.'

'But they realised I was pregnant. They called me a filthy sinner. They were going to kill David. Maybe me. You were only protecting your family.'

'Yeah, I only wanted to keep you safe. Doesn't change the fact that I killed them though.'

'No, but you were being my guardian angel. And my protective baby daddy.' He smiled softly. 'Now let's take a relaxing shower and then a nap. I'm exhausted.'

'OK.' Sherlock kissed John's head softly. 'Have you Skyped your folks today? It's been a while.'

'No, I haven't in a while.' John sighed. 'It's been harder to find a decent camera angle to hide my stomach. So I haven't talked to them in about a month.'

'You could use the mobile app instead,' Sherlock suggested. 'That way you only have to show your face.'

'After my nap.' John yawned. 'Shower first, though. Help me there?'

'Of course.' Sherlock grinned and levered John's body up, wrapping his short legs around his far too skinny waist, David pressed between them, John's arms thrown around his neck tightly. 'I'll carry you there, shall I?'

'I'm rather heavy at this point.' John pouted. 'Don't drop me, OK?'

'You're not heavy,' Sherlock tutted. 'You feel as light as a feather to me.' He padded into the bathroom and turned the shower on.

'Really?' John grinned softly. 'So I don't weigh a ton? I feel like I do. Or is it because you're an angel you can carry heavy loads with ease?'

'It's probably because I'm an angel.' Sherlock smirked, looking entirely too smug with himself.

'Git,' John joked softly, poking his tongue out at him. 'You can clean us both off. Then I think I'll nap naked. It sounds quite appealing.'

Sherlock purred loudly. 'Very appealing. Especially to an angel who doesn't sleep much.'

'You should draw me sleeping naked.' John grinned playfully. 'Then I want to see both drawings when I wake up.'

'Most certainly your lordship,' Sherlock said with a light laugh. 'Now, get in the shower.' Sherlock stripped out of his clothes with ease and sighed loudly as his cock sprang free of its confines.

'My, my,' John purred, nearly sliding to his knees at the sight. 'Someone's excited.'

Sherlock cupped himself and laughed. 'Three bloody months, John. He's bound to be a bit excited.'

'Seeing you all excited is making me excited,' John purred, stroking himself slowly. 'Take me again while we're in the shower. Or after when we're sopping wet and laying in bed.'

'I think the latter sounds more comfortable.' Sherlock hummed. 'Wouldn't want you to get a back ache this early in the pregnancy.'

'Mmm. Quite true. Well, you can wash me as compensation for my distancing myself from you.' He grinned softly and blushed. 'I want your hands all over me.'

Sherlock perked up further, his eyes bright and inquisitive. 'Your body is simply screaming for me,' he said in a low, husky voice.

'Yes,' John whispered softly. 'Yes, it is.' He took one of Sherlock's hands and placed it on his belly, leading them both into the large walk-in shower. 'Help it stop screaming. Give it what it's craving. Please. Sherlock, please.'

'It would be my utmost pleasure,' Sherlock uttered, pushing John further back into the shower. His mouth found John's pulse point and clamped onto it and his hands kept on running over John's large stomach. John moaned loudly and wrapped his arms around Sherlock's neck, arching into his touch and tilting his head so Sherlock could reach more places on his neck.

'I love you,' he moaned softly. 'I love you so much. I don't ever not want to have contact with you. Never stop touching me. Oh my god don't stop.'

'You say that now.' Sherlock placed a hot kiss on John's jaw and moved his hands down to squeeze his bottom. 'But once this baby is out of you you'll keep as far away from me as possible.'

'I may not want you as often after I have the baby, but I'll always want you on some level. Oh god. Right there. Oh, that's nice.'

'Not in this way though,' Sherlock whispered, his voice going even deeper than usual. 'You won't want me on an intimate level. And that just kills me, because I was your first and I suppose I feel like our relationship counts for nothing if you're willing to move on so quickly. Maybe this really is just a sexual experiment thing.'

'I... I don't know.' John gasped softly as Sherlock's hands continued to tease him. 'It's too early to tell. What I said three months ago may not be true after the baby's born. Just, please, don't stop touching me. David and I love it.'

'Humans,' Sherlock tutted, pressing a dirty kiss on John's mouth. 'They constantly change their minds. Funny little creatures.' He pressed a hand against John's stomach. 'And you're half human, half angel. God help you, David.'

John couldn't speak anymore. He was reduced to pathetic little whimpers and moans. He grabbed Sherlock's wrist and moved his hand further down his belly until he reached his throbbing cock. He begged Sherlock with his eyes, rutting forward through his hand. 'Please. Dear god please,' his movements said.

Sherlock nodded silently, not wanting to speak in fear of breaking the moment. He twisted his hand slightly and began to move it almost teasingly along John's length. John whimpered and gasped softly, thrusting into Sherlock's hand. He wanted more, but what Sherlock was doing was quite pleasurable. Relaxing even. He hummed softly and began thrusting slow and deep, slowly fucking Sherlock's hand. Sherlock squeezed a little harder but kept the pace relatively slow. There was no need to rush, not with this. He pressed more delicious kisses to John's neck, so lovingly that he barely skimmed the surface with his lips. John moaned softly and moved through the ring of Sherlock's hand slowly, drawing out the pleasure. He knew his orgasm would be slow and languid, a perfect match to the calming shower.

'Love,' he whispered softly, cupping Sherlock's chin in his hand. 'Don't stop wanking me, but would you wash me now? I'd love to feel more of you on my skin.'

Sherlock groaned and kissed John's neck heatedly. 'Strawberries?' he hummed against his skin.

'Yes,' John purred. 'I wanna smell like strawberries.'

'Can you wash my wings after too?' Sherlock growled and nipped John's neck.

'Of course love,' John purred. 'Now please start washing me before I lose my mind.'

'You're adorable.' Sherlock chuckled and grabbed the strawberry shower gel, lathering it up after he squeezed some of it into his palm. He pressed himself as close as John's belly allowed and began to rub the bubbles into his skin. John hummed and closed his eyes, focusing solely on Sherlock's touches. Sherlock carefully kneaded John's stomach and felt his son massage John from the inside. He hummed in pleasure and pushed his slim frame closer, his hands speeding up.

John was melting under Sherlock's touches. He slowly slid down the wall of the shower and sat down, Sherlock following him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so relaxed. He hummed loudly, his eyes still closed, and pulled Sherlock in for a long kiss, his tongue delving inside his lover's mouth and tasting him. Sherlock hummed and pulled back to nuzzle at John's neck, kissing it gently.

'Don't stop, love,' John moaned softly. 'This is the most relaxed I've felt in ages. Please don't stop.'

Sherlock laughed softly and his hands set back to work. He kissed John heavily too, moaning in pleasure.

'Oh, I love this,' John said between kisses. 'I love  _you_. Oh, Sherlock. Mmm.' He wrapped his arms around Sherlock's neck and pulled him in deeper, twisting their tongues together. Sherlock hummed into the kiss in agreement and his hands were rubbing John's belly again. He knew John was extra sensitive there. He whimpered and moaned, pushing his belly into Sherlock's touches. He never wanted it to end, but he didn't want their slow game to be over just yet. He pulled away and pointed to the strawberry body wash when he focused on Sherlock's confused look.

'I'd like to wash you before I cum from you fondling my belly,' he said in a soft voice, blushing slightly.

'OK, love.' Sherlock fetched the body wash and handed it over to John, stretching out his wings and tilting his neck back.

'Body first, then wings?' John asked, squeezing some of the body wash into his palm. Sherlock hummed his agreement and pushed himself closer.

'Easy there, tiger,' John said, laughing softly. 'Don't squish the precious cargo.' He placed his hands on Sherlock's shoulders and rubbed them gently, working his way down Sherlock's chest and tweaking his nipples when he passed them.

'Mmm. Feels good.' Sherlock's composure crumbled and he relaxed against John with a happy sigh.

'Thanks, love.' John grinned and moved down to Sherlock's stomach, sunken in from his three month absence. He frowned and moved his hands up Sherlock's spine, feeling each vertebrae without difficulty. His frown deepened and he brought his hands back to Sherlock's chest, feeling his ribs.

'Oh, Sherlock,' he finally whispered. 'Honey, please get your weight back. You look so sickly and it's all my fault. I'm so sorry. I'll never separate you and David ever again. Just please never starve yourself again. Please.'

Sherlock blushed bright red and looked rather uncomfortable. 'I didn't starve myself on purpose.'

'Hence my saying it was my fault.' John frowned. 'I kept your son away from you because I was scared, and I made you starve yourself and nearly kill yourself. I don't ever want to make you feel like that again.'

'I was an idiot,' Sherlock whispered. 'I hated myself for killing those boys.'

'You had every right to,' John whispered, sitting in Sherlock's lap. 'They were attacking me and David. You were only protecting us.'

Sherlock shivered and a tear slipped down his cheek and onto John's shoulder. 'I've missed you.'

'I missed you too, love,' John whispered, holding him close.

'What would you have done if I'd died?'

'I... I probably would have gotten rid of David. Gone back home. Fallen into a spiralling depression and eventually killed myself as well.'

'It's a good job I wasn't successful then.'

'A very good thing,' John sniffled.

'Shhh now. Let's clean up and then we can fall asleep together.'

'OK.' John sniffled again. 'I'll wash your wings later.'

'Stop thinking about it,' Sherlock uttered softly down John's ear.

John whimpered and nodded. 'Just take me to bed, please. I wanna sleep curled up in your arms.'

'Alright. Come on, love. To bed with you.' Sherlock helped John up and held him in his arms. John hummed and nuzzled Sherlock's jaw, holding onto him tight. Sherlock pulled John up into his arms and carried him to bed. He laid John on the mattress and climbed on top of him, their bodies still sopping wet.

'Don't lay on me, love,' John groaned. 'It squishes David. Let me lay on my side and you can spoon me.'

'Whoops, sorry,' Sherlock quickly apologised, rolling off of John.

'It's OK. Thanks for moving though.' He rolled over onto his side and grabbed a pillow to hold by his stomach. David really seemed to like it. He nuzzled his own pillow and hummed softly, already falling asleep. Sherlock hummed softly. His wings curled over John and David protectively. His eyes slipped shut and he found himself in John's dream in the first time in months.

_John smiled at him and turned over, facing him on the plush bed in his meadow. He was thin again, and he pressed himself close to Sherlock, curling up against him._

_'It's good to have a refuge whilst I sleep again.' Sherlock hummed loudly. 'I would have joined you earlier when you were sleeping but I wasn't sure if I was overstepping the line.'_

_'It's good to have you back,' John said, humming softly. 'I missed having you here. But then I wasn't asleep long enough to have dreams. Only nightmares.'_

_Sherlock sighed softly. 'About me... hurting you.'_

_'Among other things.' John shuddered. He looked up and really wished he hadn't. He screamed and fell off the bed, curling into a ball. Sherlock was covered in blood again._

_'John?!' Sherlock exclaimed in a panic. 'It's OK. I'm not covered in blood. It's fine. You're just imagining this.'_

_'I know, I know,' John whispered, still trembling in fear. 'I can't stop imagining it. I can't stop.'_

_'Listen,' Sherlock whispered softly. 'I'm not a cold blooded killer and I'm not going to kill you. Just imagine me as a really small, defenceless kitten. I won't hurt you. I promise.'_

_'A kitten?' John smiled softly and giggled. 'Oh, I can see it now. You make an adorable kitten.' He looked up and saw a pouting Sherlock kitten on the bed. He laughed and moved back up onto the bed and picked the kitten up, placing him on his chest and petting him softly._

_'You really do make an adorable kitten, love,' he whispered._

_'I think I make a purrfect kitten.' Sherlock purred loudly and rubbed against John's chin happily._

_'Mmm. Fluffy and adorable.' John giggled. 'Though I like the real you better.' The weight on his chest increased and his real Sherlock was lying atop him, his wings spread out behind him in their impressive glory._

_'Much better.' John grinned and pulled him down for a quick kiss._

_'Oh yes,' Sherlock said when they pulled away. 'I like the real me better too.'_

_'I could really just lie with you all day and be happy.' John hummed, kissing Sherlock's jaw. 'I rather enjoy cuddling up with you.'_

_'I wish we could stay this way forever too.' Sherlock sighed, utterly relaxed._

_'It is quite calming.' John hummed, nuzzling Sherlock's neck. 'It's nice to have a flat stomach here, too. Not that I don't mind carrying David around, but he's starting to get pretty heavy.'_

_'You've got a while to go too,' Sherlock pointed out, running a hand down John's flat belly. 'I imagine you'll eventually get so heavy you'll have to be bed bound.'_

_'Or moved about in a wheelchair,' John pouted. 'I bet carrying a baby is nothing to you angels. This is hard labour on a human. And a male one at that whose body isn't designed to carry children.'_

_'God forbid if I ever became pregnant,' Sherlock groaned._

_'I can help with that.' John grinned wickedly. He imagined Sherlock round with child, exactly the way he himself was. He looked rather silly, that large belly on such a thin body. He wondered if he looked that ridiculous as well, seeing as he was so much shorter than Sherlock._

_'I suppose it would be my penance for getting you knocked up,' Sherlock sighed softly. 'I'm sure some angel will decide to mate me. God. Erhh.' He pulled a face of repulsion._

_'I thought you had to have an emotional connection in order to mate?' John asked, returning Sherlock to normal. 'That that was why you... mated me.'_

_'Well... yes. But that isn't necessary. Um... There are basically factories where angels are taken and raped. They'll impregnate you but they won't make an emotional bond.'_

_'Oh my god!' John was appalled. 'That's terrible! That's... immoral! It's just wrong! What the hell kind of a place is Heaven? I thought it was supposed to be peaceful and happy?' He paused slightly before looking up at Sherlock, his eyes worried. 'Do you... Will you be taken there one day?'_

_'Heaven is overrated to be honest. It's at war at the moment. I was a soldier before I came to you. I saw some horrific deaths... among other things. All angels are taken to the factories at some point or another.'_

_'A soldier?' John studied Sherlock, his brow creased slightly. 'You don't look much like a soldier. Not like the guys you see on TV. I wanted to be one for a while, join the Army, but I'm too weak and small. I'd get kicked out before I even made it to the recruitment office.'_

_He paused, taking in Sherlock's last words. 'So... So at some point... you'll be taken up to Heaven, raped, and will have to carry an angel baby for a year? Will Mycroft, too? Or is he too powerful for them to touch?'_

_'You've seen my true form. I'm quite a scary bastard.' Sherlock laughed lightly before his face fell. 'I don't know about Mycroft, but I know that if I don't find an angel to bond with I'm screwed, and I'm kind of screwed now because I've made one with you and we can only ever make one bond. So, yes. I imagine I will be forced to carry a child one day.'_

_'Your true form? When did I see that? And yes, I think you're screwed in the angel rape baby department. Or maybe you'd be the one being forced to mate instead of being mated. Does that make sense?'_

_'That bright light when you crossed into my dream... that was me. And no. I am definitely the one that will be raped. They have top angels doing the raping.'_

_'And you aren't a top angel?' John frowned._

_'Nope,' Sherlock sighed loudly._

_'That's a shame. They don't know what they're missing.' He smiled weakly. 'So... will this happen when you reach a certain age and you still haven't bonded with another angel?'_

_Sherlock nodded slowly. 'And when our humans need less of our attention. It shouldn't be for a while... I hope.'_

_'What, you mean that if I feel like I don't need you all the time they'll take you away to rape and impregnate you?' John's lower lip trembled. 'No! I don't want that to happen to you!'_

_Sherlock shrugged and blew a stray curl out of his eyes. 'There's not much that you can do about it. It's just something that all angels have to go through at some point or another.'_

_'But that's terrible!' John cried, some tears slipping down his cheeks. 'I don't want you to have to go through that. Or any other angel for that matter. It's just cruel!'_

_Sherlock's brow knitted together and he smoothed his thumb over the tears dripping down John's face. 'And how is that any different to what I did to you? Apart from bonding with you, of course. I still raped you against your will, still impregnated you.'_

_'We already had a bond.' John whimpered, more tears falling against his will. 'Yes, you raped and impregnated me, but we'd already formed a strong emotional bond. It'd be hard not to since you're a fantastic lover. But what they'll do to you is completely different. No bond, a forced heat probably, rape, and then a baby. It's completely different from what you did to me. And it's just cruel and immoral and everything is wrong with it.'_

_'It's fine, John, really,' Sherlock mumbled, blushing almost bashfully at being described as a fantastic lover. 'I'm probably making it sound far worse than it is... well... I...' He sighed loudly and blew a sharp snort through his nose. 'OK, it's pretty bad. But that's just how things are. There's a constant demand for more angels. They're born, they have a childhood on Earth, and then they hit their teens and go into heaven for a few thousand years, till they are appropriately matched with a human.' He shushed John as he looked like he was about to cry further. 'David will not have such a fate. I highly doubt we'd even be able to get him into Heaven. He will be brought up as a child of Earth.'_

_'What about his wings?' John sniffled. 'Won't people wonder about them? He can't exactly go to school with human children. He grows too fast. Or does he slow down once he's out of the womb?'_

_'He'll be homeschooled. Mycroft has already picked out a tutor for him. As for his growth rate, I'm unsure. He's one of a kind. It's hard to tell.'_

_'Oh. Well, um, OK.' John curled up into Sherlock's chest, fingering the material of his shirt. The purple shirt he'd purchased for him that one day he was allowed out. He shuddered as another image of a bloodied Sherlock flashed before him. He whimpered and turned further into Sherlock's chest, feeling Sherlock's arms wrap around him in a tender hug._

_'John, please stop your tears. You're hurting me,' Sherlock whispered softly, kissing John's head with a loving tenderness. 'You physically hurt me when you cry. Stop, please.'_

_'I... I can't,' John choked out. 'I... I don't want you to be raped just to populate the angels! I don't want David to feel like an outcast! I... I don't want to have nightmares of you killing me anymore or seeing you covered in blood!' He cried harder and lay on his stomach, burying his face in his pillow to muffle his cries._

_'David is not going to be an outcast. He'll have me. I'm all he needs. And as long as you need me badly then I'm not going to be raped. I am not going to kill you. Because I am in love with you. And I will never kill again if it makes you happy.'_

_'I'll always need you, Sherlock,' John sniffled. 'And I'd rather not see you kill anything again, but if you have to go ahead. Just make sure I don't see you during or covered in blood after.'_

_'Thank you for being so understanding.' Sherlock pulled John close and hushed his whimpers with a soft kiss. John hummed softly and kissed Sherlock back, his hands travelling up to tangle in his hair._

_'Love you.' Sherlock nibbled John's lip lightly. 'Love you so much. Mmmf. You're gorgeous. So gorgeous. Never change.'_

_'I could say the same for you,' John moaned, turning Sherlock over so he was on his back. He sat up, his hands on Sherlock's chest, and rocked above him, feeling the outline of his cock against his bum._

_'Take me like this,' he purred, rocking harder. 'Me riding you, sitting on that massive cock of yours.'_

_Sherlock moaned like a wanton whore. 'I'm glad this is a dream. No need for prep.' He rocked upwards and almost teasingly pushed himself into John, shuddering and moaning louder._

_'Oh god,' John whimpered, pushing down on his lover's cock so he was effectively sitting on it. 'Oh my god.' He trembled slightly, feeling so incredibly full and aroused. Sherlock growled and began pounding into John with absolutely no mercy, making the bed shake and John a sweating, panting mess._

_'Oh my god! Oh my god! Don't stop! Shit! Fuck! Harder!' John cried, his head thrown back as Sherlock fucked him. He leant forward and clutched the headboard tight, making Sherlock able to reach some splendid new places inside him. Sherlock fucked John harder and faster. His tongue ran over every inch of John's skin and he left a numerous amount of love bites._

_'Oh fuck!' John cried, his arms shaking from holding himself up. 'Oh Sherlock! Oh shit! I-I'm cumming!'_

_Sherlock screamed and came fast and hard, his body shaking and sweating with exertion. John collapsed onto Sherlock with a splat, his chest heaving from exertion and the intensity of his orgasm._

_'Holy shit,' he gasped out. 'Fuck, I needed that.'_

_'Me too.' Sherlock laughed loudly and kissed John. 'Wanna wake up and do that for real?'_

_'Let me catch my breath first,' John giggled. 'If I wake up now I'll be out of breath.'_

_'Wake up now and I'll fuck you whilst blindfolded and handcuffed.'_

_'Oh? Which one of us will be bound? Because I'd rather like to see you bound to the bed and blindfolded.'_

_'If that's what you so wish,' Sherlock said with a smirk._

_'Oh yes,' John purred. 'See you in a second.'_

He woke slowly, stretching out his muscles, his cock already hard and aching between his legs. He pressed himself closer to Sherlock and felt his own erection nestled between them. He hummed and looked over, Sherlock already awake and alert.

'Hey,' he smiled playfully.

'Well, hello there,' Sherlock purred loudly. 'Hurry. I'm begging to be tied up for a good shag.'

'Forgive me if I'm a little slow moving,' John joked playfully. 'I am rather large with your child.' He sat up and slid off the bed, waddling over to the wardrobe where he was certain Sherlock would keep all the toys. He wasn't wrong. In fact, he hit the jackpot. Handcuffs, blindfolds, dildos of all shapes and sizes, and was that a riding crop?

'My, my. You certainly are a naughty boy,' he purred.

'I was extremely lonely over these past few months,' Sherlock said quietly, blushing a vibrant red.

'Well, allow me to rectify that.' John smirked, grabbing a pair of fuzzy handcuffs and the blindfold. 'Arms behind your head please.'

'Go easy on me, tiger,' Sherlock chortled, pulling his arms above his head.

'So long as you cooperate.' John grinned, securing a wrist in a cuff before threading it through a rung in the headboard and securing the other wrist, binding Sherlock to the bed. He stepped back to admire his handiwork and hummed.

'You look delicious, all secured down for me,' he purred. 'Though let me fix your wings. Don't want you to injure yourself.'

Sherlock was already panting with anticipation. The cool metal cuffs cut into his wrists, suspending him in a place between discomfort and pleasure. He hummed as John rearranged his wings. God, John's hands were gorgeous. He wanted them all over his body.

'You're so gorgeous,' John purred. 'Ready for the blindfold now?'

'Yes! God yes! Blindfold me and fuck me into the mattress!'

'Oh, I'm not gonna be fucking you,' John said, folding the blindfold so Sherlock wouldn't be able to see anything through it. 'There's no way I could with my belly so big. I'm gonna sit on that massive cock of yours and I'm gonna ride you until I can't take it anymore and I cum all over your chest.' He tied the blindfold on Sherlock's head, making sure it was snug but not so tight it'd hurt. When he was done, he hummed and smoothed his hands down Sherlock's chest, leaning down to lap at a nipple. Sherlock gasped sharply and his body arched off the bed. There was a distinct clang of metal as his handcuffs strained. His heart pounded in his chest at an almost nauseating pace and he could barely get a handle on his breathing.

'All your other senses are heightened because you can't see,' John murmured against his nipple. 'You're going to be so sensitive to my touches. I'm going to love this.' He sucked the nipple into his mouth and moaned loudly.

'Oh fuck!' Sherlock screamed, his whole body shuddering under John's influence.

'Mmm. I rather like you like this. Perhaps we should introduce that riding crop I saw at a later date.' He sat back and grabbed the lube, coating his fingers.

'Now you get to listen to me prepare myself. I've never done this before, so it may take me a while.' He laid back and opened his legs, swirling a finger around his hole, tensed in apprehension. He gently pushed in, just a little bit, and gasped, shuddering slightly.

'How does it feel?' Sherlock panted, hardly containing the desperation in his voice. 'Does it feel good? Tell me, Master Watson. Tell me.'

'Feels... weird,' John groaned, pushing in a little further. 'But in a good way. Oh!' His finger slid in fully and he paused, adjusting to the feeling. 'Oh, that feels rather good. Warm, and tight. Oh, yes.' He began pumping it in and out, feeling himself relax and stretch around the intrusion, humming and moaning all the while.

'I am so jealous of your hand!' Sherlock yelled, his body launching up into the air, his cock twitching and shuddering. 'Describe everything! I want details!'

'Settle down or I'll bring the crop out,' John warned, swatting Sherlock's thigh with the hand that wasn't up his own arse. 'As for how it feels? Tight, warm, strange. I'm gonna add another finger now.' He eased the first one out and pushed in two, moaning loudly as they slid in with ease.

'Oh! Oh good god. Oh, that's fantastic. It's like my arse is sucking my fingers inside it wants them so bad. Fuck!' He jolted upright slightly having found his prostate, his breathing becoming shallow and erratic. 'Oh my god I just found my prostate. Holy shit. Oh god that felt fantastic. I could feel that in my toes!'

Sherlock whimpered and bit his lip hard till he tasted blood. 'Keep hitting that prostate of yours, John,' he managed to croak out. 'I want to hear you scream. Mmm. What a delicious sound.'

John whimpered and writhed on the bed, trying to hit his prostate as often as possible. His cock ached and throbbed between his legs, begging to be touched. He added a third finger and groaned, searching for his prostate again and screaming when he found it. He screamed Sherlock's name as he stimulated the bundle of nerves, his cock leaking precum profusely now.

'Oh my god, I need you now!' John groaned, sitting up and lubing Sherlock's cock with his own leaking precum. He manoeuvred around so he was straddling Sherlock's waist, positioning his cock behind him.

'Ready?'

'I – uh – yes!' Sherlock stammered, his mind a muddled mess, his heart beating too fast, his breathing shallow and unsteady. 'Ride me! Ride me now!'

John eased Sherlock inside him and slowly began to sit down on him, Sherlock's cock sliding in with ease. Once John was fully settled, Sherlock's cock buried in him balls deep, he paused to allow himself to get used to the feeling. Similar to the dream but completely different. This was real and it felt absolutely fantastic. He moaned and rocked slowly, drawing out little gasps of breath from Sherlock. Once he felt he was relaxed enough he moved up before plunging back down, gasping sharply.

'Giddy-up cowboy,' he said huskily. He repeated the motion and whimpered loudly. Sherlock laughed and let out a loud whoop. He began thrusting up hard and fast, being mindful of the large baby bump he could feel pressed against him.

'Oh yes,' John moaned, leaning back slightly and grasping Sherlock's legs for balance. 'Just like that. Oh god yes. Fuck!'

'Feels fantastic!' Sherlock panted, his hips jolting up rather harshly. 'Oh yes! Brilliant!'

'Tell me what you're feeling,' John demanded, rocking faster. 'All your senses must be heightened since you can't see. Tell me how I feel around your cock.'

'Tight,' Sherlock gasped. 'And moist... and hot. God damn this is so dirty. I'm your dirty angel. Your bad boy from Heaven. Mmm.'

'Fuck yes you are,' John groaned. He leant forward as best he could but his large belly prevented him from going very far. 'I'd kiss you but David is preventing me from doing so.' He moved faster instead, one hand moving to the top of his belly to steady it, not wanting David to bounce around in there too much.

'How's David coping?' Sherlock said softly. 'Is he enjoying the ride?'

'Not very much,' John grunted, feeling David kick at his arm. 'He's kicking me. Ow! Stop that!'

'Oh, ignore him,' Sherlock grunted. 'Concentrate on my cock up your arse.' He bounced up and down and moaned. John gasped and whimpered loudly when Sherlock found his sweet spot, his other hand moving to grasp his cock and wank in time to Sherlock's thrusts.

'Come on, come on,' he moaned, bouncing harder. 'Fuck me and make me cum all over you! Fuck me!'

'I'm trying my very best, dear,' Sherlock groaned, bouncing upwards harder and faster.

'Oh god!' John arched back and wanked himself faster, letting go of his stomach to grasp at the sheets for balance. 'Oh my god! Oh fuck! Fuck! Don't stop! Don't stop. So close.'

'Never, dear,' Sherlock gasped out, his movements becoming harsher and more violent.

'Gah! Fuck! Cumming! I'm cumming!' John screamed Sherlock's name as he came almost painfully, spurting thickly over his stomach and chest, his entire body shaking from the force of it.

'Oh John! Me too! I'm cumming too! Fuck!' Sherlock felt his body roll with a fierce orgasm as he came long and hard. John gasped and moaned loudly as Sherlock came inside him, a few more droplets of cum coming out of his own cock before he was fully sated, sliding down until he was laying on his back, Sherlock still inside him.

'Well... that was bloody amazing,' Sherlock giggled, trying to catch his breath.

'I'll say,' John gasped out, staring at the ceiling as he panted heavily. 'I'm gonna – gonna need another – nap now. Then – then I'm craving – Mexican food and – and cake.'

'Makes a change from Italian and ice cream,' Sherlock laughed softly. 'Though I'm afraid I'm not going to let you nap just yet.' His laughter grew in volume as he pushed upwards, his cock instantly hardening again. John gasped and groaned, trying to move away. He was still too sensitive. He wasn't an angel who could gather his stamina and libido in only a few minutes. And it didn't feel good anymore. It hurt.

'Stop,' he groaned, trying to push himself off. 'Sherlock, stop.'

Sherlock grunted and huffed loudly, pulling out. 'At least suck me off,' he ordered, wriggling desperately. 'Please?'

'I can try,' John groaned sitting up and moving over to Sherlock's lower half. 'But I'm quite tired and I might not be able to finish.' He suckled the head of Sherlock's cock into his mouth and grabbed the rest with both hands, sucking at his most sensitive spot and wanking the rest with just the right amount of pressure.

'Thanks, dear.' Sherlock moaned and thrust forwards, his cock shuddering and thickening if that were possible. John bobbed his head and sucked harder, trying to get Sherlock to cum as fast as possible. Sherlock panted heavily, his cock throbbing almost painfully. He cried out and thrust harder.

'Harder! God yes! Make me cum!'

John did his best, but he was bloody exhausted. He sucked a bit more of his angel's cock into his mouth and moved his hands faster, trying to get Sherlock to bloody cum already.

'Cumming!' Sherlock screamed, his cum spilling heavily down John's throat. John spluttered and pulled away, Sherlock's still cumming cock landing with a splat on his stomach. He wiped his mouth and sat up, moving over to the wardrobe to grab the key for the cuffs. Once he freed Sherlock he left for the bathroom. He had to rinse out his mouth and he had to pee. David was not happy with him at all. Sherlock pulled off his blindfold and curled into a small ball, his wings wrapping around himself, eyes slipping shut.

John exited the bathroom, bladder empty and mouth clean, and frowned slightly when he saw Sherlock curled up on the bed, practically asleep. He blew a harsh breath of air out his nose and scowled. That wasn't very nice of him at all. He'd complained about wanting to sleep but Sherlock had demanded a blow job. He huffed and crawled onto the bed, drawing the covers over himself since Sherlock didn't need them and turned over, his back to Sherlock. He was too exhausted to do much else and fell asleep within minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, next chapter won't be posted for a couple weeks just so everyone is aware. Thanks to everyone who pestered me to update this. Sorry for the late update, but I hope this was worth the wait.
> 
> Also, to those of you who are waiting for a sequel to Faith, Trust, and Pixie Dust, I finally have some news! The sequel has now been titled and I have a rough estimate for when it will be published: May 20 (at a guess). I still have to edit the first chapter and blah blah blah, but at the very least we have plans in motion! So around late May, keep an eye out for the sequel: Second Star to the Right.  
> Much love to you all,
> 
> TSA + IB


	22. Pregnancy Sucks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been a long time coming. Sorry! Both TSA and I have been super busy with assignments/finals. This fic should be updated every Saturday from now on. 
> 
> -MJCF
> 
> From TSA: Well, maybe not *every* Saturday. We'll try our best, but you know how punctual I am when updating this fic. But it will most likely be updated on weekends or when I'm at work and things are a bit slow. The next chapter for this will probably be uploaded Friday sometime. I work early in the morning (7:30 a.m.) and it will be very slow and probably a bit boring. 
> 
> This is pure Johnlock, so you know who writes for who.
> 
> warnings for this chapter: John is a bit of a dick, poor Sherlock feels like shit, parentlock feels, tooth-rotting fluff, dream sex, hints of BDSM, body worshiping, nipple play, more tooth-rotting fluff, Sherlock finally shows John his drawings (so prepare for some happy feels).

John was seven months pregnant. By now David had grown to a hefty size and John looked like he'd swallowed a whole planet. He could barely move, was constantly demanding food and sex, and had a short fuse that Sherlock was now increasingly wary of.

'Sherlock!' John hollered from the bedroom. 'Sherlock! He wants me to pee again! Why can't you just put a fucking catheter in like I told you to last week? Then we wouldn't have this fucking problem!'

Sherlock crept into the bedroom, his face a picture of guilt. 'I apologise,' he said in a small voice. 'Shall I carry you to the toilet– oh... Too late.' He paled and swallowed. 'I'll get you cleaned up once you're done... um... pissing.'

'Don't you fucking dare get a hard on from this,' John growled. 'Now fucking clean me up.'

It was far too late for that. Sherlock's cock was hard and heavy in his trousers. He sighed and moved over to John, picking him up with care. 'I'm going to run you a nice bath, ok?'

'You're fucking depraved,' John growled, scowling deeply. 'Do you enjoy seeing me fucking humiliated? Do you enjoy watching me piss the bed because you're too slow moving to get me to the fucking loo in time? You're sick! Just get me in the damn bath and clean me up. I'm fucking hungry.'

Sherlock took a deep breath and blinked back tears. He hated John's words. They cut right through him. His heart clenched painfully and he made quick work of running a warm bath and placing John in it. He sniffed loudly but refrained himself from crying in front of John. He had to stay strong. He poured some bubbles into the bath with John and stood up.

'I'm – I'm just going to... um... I'll be right back.' He let out a small squeak and ran from the room, only breaking down once he was outside in the garden.

John rolled his eyes at Sherlock but quickly melted into the bath water. He knew he'd feel guilty later, but for now he was going to enjoy the strawberry bubbles.

Sherlock cried and shook, curled up in a tight ball. He knew he had to go back to John at some point but he couldn't bring himself to move, not when John was going to yell at him again.

John washed himself off, smoothing his hands over his large stomach which poked out of the water. He now looked like he was carrying twins. Just two more months of this, or just about, and then David would finally be out to greet the world, albeit probably a bit slimy and small. Though he knew Sherlock and Mycroft would take good care of him. He sighed, the guilt creeping in, and cradled his stomach as David stretched and settled back into a comfortable position.

'Sherlock?' he called out softly. 'Sherlock, I'm ready to come out now.'

Sherlock sniffled and wiped his now red and puffy eyes. He stood, stretching out his wings and made his way back to the bathroom, picking John up and carrying him to the sofa without a word.

'I... um–' He hiccupped. 'I'm just going to clean the sheets.'

'Can I get a towel?' John asked softly, his heart breaking at the utterly broken look of Sherlock. 'And maybe a blanket. I don't want to get cold.'

Sherlock nodded curtly and left, returning with a towel and a couple of blankets before fleeing to the bedroom to clean the sheets. John dried himself off and covered himself with the blankets, turning onto his side and sighing loudly. Sherlock probably hated him by this point. All he did was yell at him it seemed. He groaned and tucked the blankets around his feet and shoulders, waiting for Sherlock to return. Hopefully he'd remember clothes. Sherlock returned to John once the sheets had been cleaned, carrying a pair of baggy pyjamas. He handed John the pj's silently, tucking a stray curl behind his ear.

'May... may I interest you in some food?' he asked quietly, staring down at his feet.

'You could kiss me first,' John said softly, pushing himself up into a sitting position. Sherlock looked at John, startled. He cautiously sat beside John and pressed his lips against his lover's tenderly. John hummed softly and cupped Sherlock's cheek in his hand, rubbing his thumb over his cheekbone.

'I'm sorry for yelling,' he said softly as he pulled away, still cradling Sherlock's cheek. 'I just... I feel like I'm carrying a toddler and I'm tired and hungry and I just want this to hurry the hell up so David can be out of me and I can move on my own again.'

'I know.' Sherlock kissed John again. 'And I understand. You have every right to yell at me. I'm just being silly and emotional.'

'I look like I swallowed a planet,' John pouted. 'And I'm really hungry. Could you make me some burgers?'

'Certainly,' Sherlock smiled, kissing the tip of John's nose. 'How many burgers are you craving?'

'Um...' He glanced down at his stomach, David squirming around again, trying to stretch out his wings. 'Can you start with ten? I may need more, but I don't want to go overboard.'

'Ten it is!' Sherlock exclaimed cheerily, rushing off to the kitchen to cook them. 'Do you want anything with them? Or just burgers?' he called over his shoulder.

'Just the burgers please,' John smiled, turning on the TV and flicking through the channels before settling on what was probably an Italian drama show. He couldn't understand a lot of it, just able to pick out words and phrases, but it was just for background noise. He watched Sherlock in the kitchen, bustling about as he cooked.

'You've been watching me.' Sherlock grinned at John as he swaggered over to him, a platefull of burgers at the ready. 'Still like what you see?'

'Very much so,' John grinned. 'And what's on that plate looks pretty good too.'

'Eat up,' Sherlock hummed. 'Then I have something quite special lined up for you.'

'Oh?' John grinned and grabbed a burger, tearing into it almost viciously. He hadn't realised just how hungry he was. He could have sworn he heard David purr as the food's nutrients finally reached him.

'Mmm. It's, err... A few things I've been working on.' Sherlock smiled at John's belly. 'Someone's happy.'

'Oh yes. He's happy we aren't yelling and that I'm eating.' John scarfed down another burger and hummed happily. 'So, by something you've been working on, do you mean art?'

Sherlock nodded and scratched the back of his head awkwardly. 'I have drawn some things that I would like to show you. And I also have composed a piece of music. You and David inspired both.'

'Oh.' John gave Sherlock a smile that he hoped looked bright and cheerful. 'Well, I can't wait. And I'm sure David will enjoy the music. He always seems to calm down whenever you play.'

Sherlock frowned and budged closer to John, his nose pushing into his lover's now quite shaggy mop of blonde hair.

'What's wrong?' He kissed John's head. 'Have I gone too far? I don't have to show you.'

'No, it's fine,' John said quietly, wiping his mouth free of the juices from the burgers. 'I just... I feel awful about how I've treated you the past month or so and I just... Do I really deserve you composing and making art for me? I've treated you like shit. I don't deserve this. It's like you're rewarding me for bad behaviour.'

Sherlock shrugged and placed a hand on John's belly, David kicking and thumping his wings out at his touch.

'You're carrying my seven month old son. You're in constant discomfort. I think I deserve to be talked to like shit. It doesn't matter anyway. I'm your angel. You can treat me however you like.'

'I don't like treating you like shit though,' John frowned. 'I really don't.'

Sherlock rolled his eyes. 'Just shut up and eat those burgers before they go cold.'

'Shut up,' John grumbled before shoving another burger in his mouth.

'Yes, dear,' Sherlock grinned and kissed John on the head again. 'I'll shut up.'

John huffed but smiled softly, eating another burger.

'Actually, you could play your violin piece while I eat,' he offered. 'It might help David calm down. He's been quite restless all day.'

'Mmm. Not long now.' Sherlock patted John's stomach fondly and stood to his feet. 'I'll be right back. I've just got to fetch her.'

'Her?' John asked, eating another burger.

Sherlock paused and bit his lip. 'Erm... My violin. I meant to say my violin.'

'So your violin is a girl?' John smirked, amused. 'Does she have a name?'

Sherlock huffed a laugh. 'She does yes. But I'm not telling you.'

'Do I get a hint?' John called after him as he disappeared, eating another burger. How many was that now? Five? Yep. Five. He had five left and ate two more while he waited for Sherlock to return. Down to three now. Maybe he could have Sherlock bring him some ice cream before he began playing.

'Nope. It's private,' Sherlock grinned, returning with his violin. 'Maybe some day I'll tell you. But for now just listen to me play her.'

'Ok. Oh, could you get me some ice cream first? I'm almost done here but still hungry.'

Sherlock hummed and moved to the kitchen, pulling a tub of chocolate chip cookie ice cream out of the freezer and handing it to John.

'Now, shall I begin?'

John smiled and nodded, placing the tub on his stomach and digging in, abandoning the last three burgers.

Sherlock took a deep breath, raising his bow to the fine strings on the violin. The tune that played out was a warm and happy melody. John smiled as he listened to Sherlock's song, eating the ice cream slowly as David was enthralled with the music as well. Sherlock smiled back at John, swaying with the steady melody playing out, his face composed and perfectly relaxed. John's foot began to sway along with the melody, his eyes closing as the music moved him beyond words.

The melody held all of Sherlock's love and devotion to both John and David. It was soft and beautiful, and utterly heart warming. John felt calm and at peace for the first time in a very long time. He hummed softly and put the ice cream down on the floor, turning over onto his side and relaxing fully, falling asleep.

Sherlock smiled softly at his sleeping lover. He looked so peaceful and so utterly beautiful. He gently began to sing a lullaby, his deep baritone voice penetrating the calm. John smiled in his sleep, listening to the soft voice singing to him. He hummed softly and a hand rested on his belly, David relaxing too.

'Shhh, little angel up in the sky,' Sherlock hummed gently, finishing off his lullaby. 'Daddy's gonna carry you up nice and high.'

John hummed again and snored softly, David relaxed for the first time in ages. Good. They both really needed some proper sleep. Sherlock smiled in satisfaction and moved so he was bundled underneath the covers with John and David, watching as they both slept peacefully.

John woke a few hours later, his bladder complaining again as David was moving about. He groaned and blinked open his eyes, Sherlock coming into focus.

'Need to pee,' he croaked out, his voice still heavy with sleep.

Sherlock got up and carried John to the loo without any hesitation, not wanting there to be a repeat of the previous time John had needed the toilet. He stood in the doorway, his head resting against the wooden material.

'Sweet dreams?' he asked gently.

'Oh yes,' John grinned, relieving himself and sighing softly. 'Very sweet and warm dreams. I was outside in the sun, tanning. And I could hear your voice in the background, singing me to sleep.'

'Hmmm. Sounds nice.' Sherlock yawned loudly. 'I might try to catch some kip. I'm surprisingly tired.'

'How long do you typically sleep?' John queried. 'All these months together and I still don't know how little sleep you need. I think we may need to have another dinner Q&A soon.'

'In my natural form I don't sleep at all. In this vessel I need at least four hours sleep. I can go days without it though, if I have to of course.'

'Like when you stayed up three days when I was in a mild coma,' John said, cleaning himself before blushing up at Sherlock. 'No matter how many times we do this it's still embarrassing. Help me to the sink?'

Sherlock smiled warmly at John and tenderly helped him to the sink. 'It's fine, John. It's all fine. Nothing should be embarrassing to us, not after all we've been through so far.'

'Yeah, I know,' John sighed, washing his hands and drying them off. 'Help me get dressed please and then I'd like to lay outside. It's a gorgeous day, and I'd like to soak up some sun.'

'No need to get dressed for that,' Sherlock purred. 'I want your naked body splayed out before me.'

John flushed and nodded, wrapping his arms around Sherlock's neck so he could kiss him deeply.

'Nap naked next to me,' he whispered huskily. 'I want to see your naked body on display for me as well.'

'Mmm. Happily, John. Happily.' He tugged his clothes off and wrapped himself around John lovingly.

'I'm sorry for yelling at you earlier,' he whispered in Sherlock's ear. 'Now let's go warm ourselves outside and then maybe we can have some outdoor sex when you wake.'

'Oooh. Sounds perfect,' Sherlock purred and rubbed himself against John's round belly.

'Excellent,' John purred softly. 'Now help me out there. Maybe grab us a big blanket to lay on.'

'Mmm. Come on you.' He scooped John up, grabbed a blanket from the lounge, and lay them both down on top of it outside in the sun. John hummed and stretched out like a starfish, feeling David press closer to the warmth of the sun. He smiled and smoothed his hands over his large belly.

'I can't wait for David to actually feel the sun on his skin,' he said softly, looking over at Sherlock. 'I may be scared as hell about the actual birth process but I'm kinda excited too. I mean, we made a life, and it's scary and exciting all at the same time.'

'Tell me about it.' Sherlock chewed his lower lip in thought. 'I'm so scared I'm going to screw up. My father screwed up and I don't want to turn out like him.'

'You mention him a lot but you never talk about him,' John said softly, massaging his belly gently. 'What did he do that makes you resent him so much? Did he abuse your family like mine did? Or did he abandon you completely?'

'He killed our mother and abandoned us, leaving Mycroft to raise me when he wasn't much older than me. So yeah, I don't like to talk about him.'

'Oh my god!' John held a hand to his mouth, his other reaching out for Sherlock. 'So my dreams about you killing me... They made you afraid you were going to do what he did. I... I'm so sorry, Sherlock.'

'It's fine,' Sherlock stated bluntly, folding his wings around his body like a small cocoon of protection. 'I'm fine.'

'Sherlock, no it's not. It was a terrible thing to do and it's obviously haunted you throughout your three thousand years of existence. Now get over here and kiss and cuddle me.'

Sherlock crawled closer to John, his arm wrapping around his thick middle, his lips moving calmly against his lover's soft lips. John threaded his fingers through Sherlock's curls and hummed softly.

'Sleep now, love. I may join you and we can fly in my dream.'

'I love you,' Sherlock mumbled, falling fast asleep within moments.

'I love you too,' John hummed, settling back on the blanket and fell asleep as well, David trying to get as close to Sherlock as possible. He curled against him as best he could, his big belly nestled between them, David curling up and sleeping peacefully. John followed soon after.

_'Hello again,' Sherlock grinned. 'You look quite beautiful.' He kissed John in greeting._

_'Mmm. So do you,' John hummed, kissing him back._

_'Bed?' Sherlock asked with a playful wiggle of his eyebrows and a wicked grin._

_'Of course,' John grinned, kissing Sherlock heavily, sucking his tongue into his mouth and depositing them both on a plush bed. Sherlock moaned and the next thing he knew he and John were both naked and he was filling John up with his thick and throbbing cock._

_John gasped and moaned, arching his back against the mattress as Sherlock filled him. He had his wrists bound behind his head, a scarf tying him to the rungs of the headboard._

_'Thought you might enjoy some more bondage,' he grinned cheekily as Sherlock pushed all the way in. 'Though when I get my figure back I want to do this again, but with you on top of me, sitting on me like I did you. Oh god! Don't stop! Oh fuck that feels amazing!'_

_Sherlock rocked into John at a frantic rate, pumping faster and faster, his cheeks burning bright red._

_'Mmm,' he purred, kissing John's lips forcefully._

_'Come on, love,' John growled. 'I'm tied up for you to do whatever you want with. Do something! Come on! Hit me! Play with my nipples! Something!'_

_Sherlock growled again and lunged for John's nipples, clamping his mouth around one and tweaking the other with his thumb and middle finger._

_'Fuck! Yes! That's it!' John cried, gasping and writhing on the bed as Sherlock pleasured him. 'More! More!'_

_Sherlock growled around John's nipple and pulled back. 'You asked for it,' he said, his voice deep and gravely. He began to kiss and nip and lick at every square inch of skin that he could reach, paying special care to his thighs, pulling out before pushing back in and finding John's sweet spot._

_John gasped sharply and whimpered as Sherlock drowned his body in sensation, his body twitching madly as he simultaneously tried to get away and get closer. Once Sherlock began pounding into him harder he was hovering on the edge in no time. He gasped sharply and looked up at Sherlock, whimpering loudly._

_'I'm so close,' he choked out, gasping when Sherlock found his prostate. 'Oh fuck! I-I'm gonna– Fuck!'_

_Sherlock buried himself as deep as possible in John and came, moaning at the desperation in John's voice. His fingertips pressed into John's thighs, leaving tiny crescent shaped bruises. He panted against John's neck, his breath warm and harsh._

_'Is it just me, or does it get more and more amazing each time we do this?'_

_'Oh no,' John gasped out, a goofy, satisfied smile on his face. 'I feel it too. Damn. It really does seem to get better each time. Not sure why, but maybe it's because we're getting more adventurous.'_

_Sherlock pulled out with a satisfied sigh and placed his head upon John's chest, listening to the erratic heartbeat pounding underneath his ear, smiling just as goofily. John got rid of the handcuffs and hugged Sherlock tenderly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head._

_'I love you,' he whispered._

_Sherlock hummed and smirked smugly. 'I know you do.'_

_'Good,' John grinned. 'Wanna wake up and have some gentle love making?'_

_'Yeah... And I can show you those drawings I did for you.'_

_'Sex then art. I like it.'_

_'Come on then,' Sherlock teased lightly. 'Wakey wakey.'_

_John kissed Sherlock softly and hummed. 'See you soon.'_

Sherlock smiled to himself as he awoke and he pushed himself closer to John's baby bump.

'Hello again,' he whispered in greeting.

'Hey,' John smiled sleepily. 'Enjoy your nap?'

'Mmm. Very much so, yes.' Sherlock hugged John tenderly, stroking his belly lightly with his fingertips.

'Mmm. I did too,' John hummed softly, his belly loving Sherlock's tender touches. It was still quite bruised due to David's moving about, though he knew it would only get worse as he got closer to giving birth.

'He's getting more and more active,' Sherlock noted as he felt David roll over under his hand. 'I should think you'll only be able to take another few months of this.'

'If that,' John grumbled. 'He's getting a bit too big for my body to handle. I'll be lucky if I make it to nine months.'

'It's all worth giving him a chance to live though, right?' Sherlock paused and bent down to kiss the bulging stomach.

'Yes, though his constant moving around tires me out,' John huffed, feeling David stretch out his wings. 'But it's all so he can have a chance at life. And he'll have a good life. He'll have you. You won't be your father. You'll be infinitely better. Because you have a heart.' He splayed his hand over Sherlock's chest and smiled softly.

'Aww,' Sherlock cooed, his tone teasing. 'John's getting all lovey dovey these days, hmm?' He smiled back at John, placing his larger hand over John's smaller one. 'Though seriously, you sound like a woman, going on about the affairs of the heart like you always do.'

'Oh, shut up,' John mock pouted, shoving Sherlock's chest lightly. 'It's the hormones and I'm more sensitive than most guys as it is. I always have been. Just ask my mum. I was the sweetest little boy there ever was.'

Sherlock giggled and continued to coo. 'Sweetest little boy there ever was, were you?'

'Yes. I was,' John smirked proudly. 'I was adorable, if you must know.'

'Oh, really?' Sherlock laughed, kissing John's jaw. 'And is our son going to receive the adorable gene thanks to you?'

'I should hope so,' John laughed softly. 'He's half of me after all. So unfortunately he'll only be half as adorable as me.'

'Hey! I can be adorable,' Sherlock pouted. 'No. I am adorable, so there! He shall be one hundred percent adorable.'

'Good,' John grinned. 'Now will you make love to me? My body's craving you.'

Sherlock purred and moved so he was straddling John's lap. 'How do you want us?'

'Just take me like this,' John purred. 'I can't really do much else.'

'Mmm.' Sherlock smacked his lips against John's and grasped John's prick, running his hand up and down it. John moaned softly and hummed, pulling Sherlock down for another kiss.

'How badly do you want my fingers?' Sherlock nipped playfully at John's lip.

'I actually just want you to make love to me nice and slow this time,' John hummed. 'Please.'

Sherlock kissed John softly and gently began to prepare him so that he could make love to him. 'I love you so much. I'm going to be the best damn lover you'll ever have. I'm going to worship you.'

'Oh yes,' John moaned. 'Worship me. Please.'

'Gladly.' Sherlock pressed butterfly kisses all the way down John's body, spending most of his time giving John's belly some love and then moving downward to kiss his inner thighs.

'Ready for me?' he asked, his voice husky.

'Oh yes,' John hummed, managing to sit up on his elbows. 'Make love to me, Sherlock.'

Sherlock gripped John's shoulders as he pushed his cock in. He pulled himself as tightly to John as possible, his large belly preventing him from going any further. He started making the softest love to John imaginable. John hummed softly and linked his fingers with Sherlock's, settling back on the blanket and rocking with Sherlock as best he could. Their bodies danced together, John's rather clumsily, and Sherlock's as graceful as a swan gliding across water. Sherlock's lips kissed John's neck lovingly and the noises John was making in response were beautiful.

'A little faster, Sherlock, please,' he begged. 'Touch me. Stroke me. Oh god I just need your hands on me!'

Sherlock gradually sped up and one hand reached up to tweak at a nipple, the other moved down to John's cock. John gasped and whimpered, clamping down around Sherlock's cock as he was brought closer to the edge.

'I-I'm cumming,' he moaned, his cock throbbing in Sherlock's hand and spurting cum onto their stomachs. Sherlock grunted against John's neck as he too began to cum in hot spurts.

'I hope you know l love you,' he gasped out, his whole body shuddering.

'Yes, I know,' John murmured softly. 'And I hope you know that I love you too. No matter how I may yell or fight or lash out, know that I love you.'

'I'll never forget that, never. I'm three thousand years old and you're the only person to have ever uttered those words to me.'

'Not even your brother told you he loved you?' John frowned deeply.

'My brother may be a family man at heart, but he likes to think he's the coldest bastard out there, so no. Though I have no doubt that he does love me. He just has a funny way of showing it. You are the first to tell me those words.'

'While I'm sorry to hear that, I'm slightly proud to be the first person to say those words to you. So, let me say it again.' He pulled Sherlock close and whispered, 'I love you, Sherlock.'

Sherlock shivered, John's warm breath against his ear sending tingling sensations down his spine. 'Shall we clean up? Then I'll show you my drawings and we can take another nap together.'

'I could use some more food,' John said softly, blushing. 'David worked up an appetite having to deal with our... activity.'

'There's nothing to be ashamed of, love. Our son is going to be demanding food a great deal. Italian with more ice cream? Oh, and you need to take your tablets too.'

'Sounds good,' John grinned. 'Come on. I'll eat and you can show me your art.'

Sherlock helped John up with a loud huff and helped him onto the sofa, depositing him there and moving to the kitchen.

'Thanks love!' John called after him, settling against the sofa.

'No problem.' Sherlock threw some Italian into the oven and grabbed some more ice cream, handing it to John.

'Oh! Cookie dough! My favourite!' John took the offered spoon and dug into the ice cream, watching Sherlock move about the kitchen. Sherlock made pasta and poured it into two bowls before returning to the lounge, plonking down beside John with a long sigh.

'Hey, you ok?' John asked, reaching for one of the bowls and digging into it.

'Hmm?' Sherlock blinked and shook his head. 'Yeah, I'm fine. Just dealing with some shit going on upstairs.' He pointed upward and sighed loudly again.

John's brow furrowed in worry. 'What kind of shit? Has David been discovered?' A protective hand flew to his belly and pet it as if to soothe the angel child within.

Sherlock quickly shook his head. 'No. David's fine, he's safe. We're safe. I just–' He bit his lip. 'I felt several angels fall. God – Castiel.' He ran a hand down his face. 'The only crime that they have committed is falling in love, with a human. It's not as uncommon as you might think. I'm just scared that I'm next.'

'Oh. I didn't realise falling angels was still such a big issue. I mean obviously it is, but I meant by the numbers. I didn't realise so many were still falling.'

Sherlock tilted his head to look at John with sad eyes. 'Ever seen a light in the sky that you can't quite explain? You put it down to shooting stars or aeroplanes, right? Well, you're wrong. That's us, and we're falling, fast and hard.'

John stopped eating and looked at Sherlock with eyes full of sorrow. He motioned him closer and held him close, petting his hair.

'Yes, I've seen those so-called falling stars,' he said softly. 'I didn't realise they were angels. I've only seen a few in my area, but I suppose it happens more in other parts of the world. I'm sorry that you're losing your family. Well, your extended family. But I'm still sorry. And you seemed particularly upset about a Castiel. Who's Castiel?'

Sherlock's brow bunched together and he swallowed. 'He was perhaps the only fledgling to have treated me like an equal. You would have liked him, I think. He was a right character. He always banged on about the human race. You lot amazed him, you know. I couldn't see why, not till now. I look at you and you amaze me. Now I see what's so special about your kind.'

'And he found a special human too,' John grinned. 'I wonder if he and his human are going to have any fledglings of their own, like us.' He stroked his belly again and David pressed against his hand gently. 'I just hope that all fallen angels are happy, that they have good lives on Earth and aren't mistreated by the stupid religious groups who see them as abominations of Heaven.'

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at John, amused. 'Fledglings? Let's stick with the one for now. I don't think I could cope with your mood swings a second time around. And yes, you may hope that as much as you like. However, the sad truth is that all fallen angels die horrific deaths one way or another. It isn't pretty for those of us who have fallen.'

John frowned deeply and pulled Sherlock in for a deep kiss, humming softly before pulling away.

'I won't let them do that to you if you ever fall,' he said determinedly. 'I won't let you die.'

'You know, there is statistically little you can do,' Sherlock sighed, glancing away from John's worried gaze.

'Well I'll try my damnedest anyway,' John scowled. 'Now let me finish eating and then I'd like to see your drawings before I have to piss again.'

'Can I feed you?' Sherlock asked gently, reaching for the ice cream spoon.

John grinned mischievously. 'Sure.' He opened his mouth invitingly, running his tongue over his teeth.

Sherlock smiled at John, scooping a massive spoonful of ice cream up and moving it into the awaiting mouth. John closed his lips around the spoon and sucked on it loudly, some ice cream dribbling down his chin.

'Mmm,' Sherlock moaned and shifted in his seat, a blush peppering his cheeks. Watching John eat was an erotic sight indeed. John chewed the chunks of cookie dough before swallowing and opening his mouth for more, his tongue licking along his teeth again.

'I want you to eat this all up,' Sherlock cooed, bringing another spoonful up to John's mouth. John moaned obscenely as he accepted the next spoonful, sucking on it loudly again, more of the vanilla goodness dribbling down his chin in a downright filthy image.

'Tut, tut. You dirty boy,' Sherlock purred. He wiggled his eyebrows and purred louder, another spoonful heading towards John's mouth.

John opened his mouth eagerly, some ice cream still inside and dripping out of his mouth as he accepted the new spoonful, more of the sweat treat dribbling down his chin and onto his chest and extended belly.

'Hmmm. Let me clean that up for you.' Sherlock bent down and began lapping at the spilled ice cream. John's breath hitched as Sherlock's hot tongue lapped up the cold ice cream. He hardened almost instantly and moaned loudly, his hips canting up of their own accord. Sherlock hummed loudly and pulled away, licking his lips free of the creamy substance he'd just lapped up.

'I'll get those drawings now, shall I?' he grinned cheekily.

'Git,' John smirked. 'Yes. Show me your art. I can't wait to see them.'

'Yes, but I'm your git.' Sherlock laughed softly and quickly went off to retrieve his drawings. He brought out a drawing pad that was almost full to the brim with artwork of John, he and John together, and of course baby David too.

John sat up slightly so he wasn't slipping down the length of the couch. Sleeping on his back gave him heartburn and sleeping on his stomach was out of the question. So he either slept propped up with pillows or on his side. He gestured for Sherlock to come closer and pet the spot next to him on the couch.

'Which are you gonna show me first? Or are we just going in order?'

Sherlock plopped himself beside John and opened up the art pad to the first page, a drawing of he and John kissing each other softly.

'I thought we could go in order.'

'Oh.' John reached out to touch the drawing, tracing Sherlock's cheekbone. 'Wow. It's... beautiful.'

'You think so?' Sherlock asked with a grin.

'Yes,' John grinned up at him. 'Beautiful.'

'Well, I only draw what I see,' Sherlock retorted huskily.

'Oh, so you think you're beautiful too?' John grinned. 'Good. I'm glad you see what I see. Show me more.'

'I was talking about you, you daft wanker.' Sherlock laughed and flicked over a page to a drawing of John sleeping naked. It was drawn before David had even been in the equation.

'I know, idiot,' John smirked. 'I was just adding you into the beautiful equation.' He looked down at the drawing and raised an eyebrow at it. He didn't have a baby bump. He looked back up at Sherlock.

'When did you draw this?'

'Before the David incident, obviously.' Sherlock coughed awkwardly, blushing a vibrant red.

'I know that you idiot!' John scowled. 'When specifically? Tell me!'

'I liked to watch you sleep, alright?! The human anatomy fascinates me.'

'But when?!' John demanded. 'How long had we known each other when you drew this? Hours? Days? Weeks? What?'

'Um, let me see. Err...' Sherlock pretended to think, rolling his eyes upwards. 'About two weeks into our relationship.'

'Two weeks?' John paused and thought back. 'After you'd tried to bleed yourself to death?'

Sherlock swallowed thickly. 'Yeah. After I tried to bleed myself dry.'

John frowned and traced his fingers over the drawing, remembering Sherlock having gotten up during the night. He'd been sitting in the window when he'd woken. He must have drawn him when he was still sleeping. Well, obviously he had. The drawing was right in front of him as proof.

'Sorry for snapping at you,' he said softly, dropping his hand from the drawing. 'I don't know why I did. I just... I don't know. I'm sorry.'

Sherlock shrugged softly and moved so he was crawled up on the sofa, his head placed on John's large belly. 'It's ok. I shouldn't have drawn you back then.'

'No, it's... fine,' John said quietly. 'Don't ever feel like you can't draw me. I like seeing you concentrating on your art. Your face contorts into these weird shapes and it makes me laugh.'

'I like it when you laugh,' Sherlock murmured against John's stomach. 'That sound makes me so happy.'

'I rather enjoy laughing,' John said softly. 'Come on. Show me some more drawings. I want to see them. I won't get angry at any of them anymore. Promise.

Sherlock hummed and flicked over a page to a drawing of he and John wrapped around each other, naked in a shower.

'My goodness,' John laughed softly. 'You sure have some very intimate images in your head.' He traced a finger down Sherlock's penciled form and whistled. 'Got any dirty ones? Where nothing is left to the imagination?'

'There's this one,' Sherlock laughed, flicking to a page where he and John were fucking like rabbits. John whistled and waggled his eyebrows.

'My, my. That's quite an image. I miss being able to do that without having to worry about David's well-being.'

'We can go back to doing that sort of thing once David has been born,' Sherlock reassured John, rubbing the belly his head was resting on. 'I think David will be glad once he's able to escape too.'

'Oh yes. I'm sure he'll be ecstatic. He doesn't like it when he gets bounced around when we have sex. And he hates that my bladder fills so easily now, so he makes me have to pee every half hour, I swear. Trust me when I say David isn't going to be the only happy one when he finally escapes.'

'Let's just hope things go smoothly,' Sherlock hummed, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. 'And I at least hope you'll be able to cope at least till you're nine months along. Otherwise life is going to be a bit of a struggle for our David.'

'When he does come... How will the doctor get here in order to do the C-section?' John smoothed a hand over his large stomach and frowned. 'What if something goes wrong before he can get here?'

'He won't be late. We have him on call. We need him and he'll be over here in a flash... literally. There's no need to worry about giving birth to him. Everything will be fine. David will be removed from the womb and you'll never have to look back. Mycroft will take him. You don't even have to look at him.'

'Maybe I want to see him,' John frowned. 'Maybe I want to hold him. He's still my son, even if I can't be an active part of his life.'

Sherlock sighed gently. 'I just don't want it to be painful for you when you let him go. Either of you.'

'We'll be fine, Sherlock. Now I assume you have drawings of David in here, yes? Show him to me. I want to know what he looks like.'

Sherlock flicked to the very back of the art pad and smiled warmly at his first ever attempt at drawing their fledgling.

'He's perfect, isn't he?'

'His wings are so big for his little body,' John stated, touching them. 'No wonder he's constantly moving around. His wings are in the way.'

'They'll be useful to him eventually,' Sherlock chuckled. 'They keep you toasty warm at night too. There's no need for blankets when you're an angel.'

'Must be nice,' John smirked. He studied David's face. He could definitely see Sherlock, but there were small traces of himself in there. The freckles that might fade over time like his did. The nose, oddly enough. The shape of his eyes. He was definitely their son.

'I think he looks an awful lot more like you than me. Not that I'm complaining. To me he's perfect.'

'Really?' John looked up at Sherlock. 'I can see a lot of you in him.'

Sherlock shook his head. 'Maybe when he's older he'll get more of my sharper features but right now it's like looking at a miniature you. He does have my curls though, but seeing as he's your son too his curls will probably be a little lighter than mine, especially when he's younger.'

'He does look like me when I was younger,' John mused. 'I do want to see him when he's born. It could be good for us. I want him to know about me.'

Sherlock pursed his lips, went to say something, and shook his head. 'How involved in his life do you intend to be? Do you still want contact with him, even if you can't raise him? It can be arranged, if it is what you so wish.'

'Yeah. I still want to see him even if I can't be an active part of his life. I don't want to just abandon him. Not like I was originally planning. I have see the error of my ways. I can't abandon him after all this time. I just can't be an active part of his life. But I do want to know him. Kind of like an open adoption sort of thing.'

'And when he's old enough are we going to tell him who you really are? He'll have questions, I'm certain of that. Doesn't he have a right to know where he comes from? I just... I think if he asks that kind of thing he shouldn't be lied to.'

'We can arrange a time to meet,' John said softly. 'Tell him all about me until then, yeah?'

'Oh. I intend to. There's no way I would let David grow up without knowing who you are.'

'Good. Now can you help me to the loo? Then I need to finish my pasta.'

Sherlock stood up and carefully picked John up, wrapping his arms tenderly around him as he carried him to the toilet.

'Thanks for helping me during all this,' John said softly, nuzzling Sherlock's jaw. 'I know I can be pretty rough to deal with, but thanks for putting up with me.'

'You're not that bad,' Sherlock muttered, kissing John's head as he propped him up on the loo. 'I'm sure I'd be far grumpier if I were you. Up the duff with an angel baby? I think that's enough to rough anyone up.'

'Especially a fragile human carrying an angel baby,' John groaned, emptying his bladder into the toilet. 'It'd probably be easier on you seeing as your body is a lot stronger than mine. Mine isn't designed to carry a baby, let alone an angel one.'

'You've done a marvellous job so far,' Sherlock praised him gently. 'You're far braver than I to have gone through with it all.'

'Thanks,' John blushed. 'I'm all done now. I need food and then a nap.'

'Agreed,' Sherlock hummed, picking John back up and carrying him back to the sofa. 'Eat up.' He pointed to the pasta, beginning to eat out of his own bowl. John dug right in and gobbled the pasta up, the bowl empty within minutes.

'Mmm. Delicious, love. Thanks,' he hummed, licking his lips.

'You're welcome,' Sherlock said around his last bite of pasta. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand and picked John back up. 'Right. Time for bed.' He moved to their bedroom, depositing John on the bed gently.

'See you in my dream?' John mumbled softly, his eyes drooping already.

'I'll be there before you know it,' Sherlock whispered, his wings tugging around John as he too fell fast asleep.


	23. The Birth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! It's afternoon here in England, and it is a sweltering hot day. The sun is high in sky and the sky is blue, and what am I doing? Blogging and updating fan fics. 
> 
> As you might have noticed this chapter is called 'The Birth' 
> 
> That's right! David's on his way and things are about to drastically change between our beloved duo. Fatherhood is a difficult path for anyone, but for an angel and a human? The whole world is against them. 
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: Graphic childbirth, mentions of stress induced illness, and John being a complete dick to Sherlock.
> 
> We hope that you enjoy the chapter! Till next time...
> 
> -MJCF

The next two months seemed to drag on. David was still growing and more restless than ever. John barely slept anymore and he was either constantly eating or sitting on the loo for an hour. David was getting too heavy to carry so John spent most of his time in bed, Sherlock puttering about like a midwife. He'd finally just given in and attached John to a catheter, leaving him completely bedridden.

About eight months in John began to get fed up with everything. He had an incredibly short fuse and would bitch about everything. He was cold, he was hot, he was tired, he had too much energy, he was hungry, his food wasn't cooked enough or it was overcooked. Nothing seemed to satisfy him and it was taking its toll on Sherlock. He looked like a wreck and John knew he hadn't been out to fly in over a month. His wings were constantly twitching in agitation and sometimes even flapped angrily whenever John was especially cruel. One day, with John nearing the ten month mark, he just couldn't take it anymore.

'Just get the hell out and fly for fuck's sake!' he yelled at Sherlock. 'I'm tired of watching your wings constantly stretching and twitching and it's getting on my nerves! Just go out and fucking fly!'

Sherlock huffed and wandered up to the bed. John really did have a quick temper these days. 'I don't want to leave you,' he stated. 'You're almost ten months along and I'm not going to leave such precious cargo alone.'

'Just go!' John growled. 'I'll be fine. I'm just gonna try to take a nap anyway. Go fly. You need to get out and stretch your wings. Go!'

Sherlock sighed softly. 'Well... alright. But I won't fly far. I'll stretch them then I might join you.'

'Good. Just go.' John turned away from Sherlock, effectively ending their conversation, and shut his eyes.

'Sweet dreams,' Sherlock mumbled, heading off reluctantly to fly. John mumbled something in reply and squeezed his eyes shut tighter, trying to will himself to sleep. He was bloody exhausted, had barely slept an hour in two days, and just wanted to get some decent sleep. He found himself drifting off within minutes, entering his dream meadow with a contented sigh.

_'Oh it's good to see you again,' he said up to the sky, smiling in relief._

_'I'm thorry, Daddy. I'm tho thorry.'_

_John's eyes snapped open and he sat up quickly. Who the hell was that and how did they get inside his dream? He looked around and jumped back slightly when he saw a small child with wings sitting beside him, his lower lip trembling and his eyes full of unshed tears._

_'Daddy?' John gasped, clutching a hand to his chest. 'Are you... David?'_

_David nodded timidly, glancing up at John through his curls. 'I'm thorry,' he repeated, sniffling loudly. 'I'm making you thad. You can't theep.'_

_'No, it's... fine. Um... Hi,' he said stupidly._

_'H-h-hello,' David squeaked back, curling himself into a frightened ball._

_'There's no need for that,' John frowned. 'Why are you scared of me?'_

_David uncurled himself and edged closer to John. 'I'm not thcared,' he said bravely, puffing out his little chest._

_'That's my brave boy,' John grinned. 'I have to say, it's nice to finally meet you. I was beginning to get jealous of Sherlock being able to see you but not me.'_

_David smiled softly at John. 'Ith nith to meet you too.' He crawled closer and snuggled against his daddy. John swallowed and awkwardly wrapped his arms around his son. When David crawled into his lap he began grinning like an idiot. He picked him up and kissed both his boy's cheeks and the tip of his button nose._

_'I'm so very glad to meet you,' he smiled warmly. 'Though I'm scared to death of having you.'_

_'I'm thcared of coming out. Dun wanna leath my nith, warm home.' David grinned up at his daddy, his tiny tongue poking out from his lips. 'But my home ith becoming too thmall. Can't move muth.'_

_'Yeah. It must be pretty uncomfortable in there,' John smiled softly. 'Daddy can't move very well you're so big.'_

_David giggled softly. 'Papa liketh you like that, daddy. He told me tho.'_

_'He likes it when I can't move?' John frowned._

_'No thilly. He wikes you cus ya looking after me in your belly.'_

_'Oh. Well, that's definitely better than what I was thinking.' John hugged David again. 'I like taking care of you in my belly, I do, I just want you to come out already. Daddy hurts all over from you moving around and he can't really sleep. And the outside world isn't so bad. You'll have your wings to keep you warm, and your papa and uncle to care for you. They're pretty awesome, though your uncle can be kind of scary.'_

_David shook his head. 'Uncle Myc is funny! He tellth me thtories when I can't theep. Heth not thcary.'_

_'Yeah, his stories are pretty cool,' John said fondly, remembering Mycroft weaving a tale of pirates to David on a particularly bad day. 'You'll be well taken care of by your papa and uncle. Unfortunately, I won't be able to raise you. I have my human life to return to. You see, my having you is breaking almost every rule there is about having a relationship with a human. And if I were to take care of you in the human world, very bad things would happen to us all. So you need to stay with your papa and uncle where you'll be safe.'_

_David's bottom lip quivered. 'Don't you wan me?' he asked in a small voice. 'Will I ever thee you again?'_

_'Of course I want you,' John frowned, hugging David close. 'I'm just unable to care for you. And yes, we'll see each other again. I promise. This won't be goodbye.'_

_David sniffled loudly, burying his head in his daddy's chest, sobbing slightly. 'I'm gonna mith you.'_

_'I'm gonna miss you too, buddy,' John choked out, hugging his son close. 'Just always remember that your daddy loves you very much, and under different circumstances he would raise you right alongside your papa.'_

_'Unfortunately, angels are complete dicks.'_

_David turned and giggled at the sight of his papa. 'Papa!' he squealed, cheering up significantly._

_'Hey, David. I see you met Daddy.'_

_David nodded, his lower lip wobbling again. 'Dun wanna leath him.' He hugged his daddy extra tightly._

_'Welcome back, love,' John smiled softly, petting David's hair. 'How was your fly?'_

_'Awful,' Sherlock huffed, settling on the bed by his lover and son. 'My wings refused to cooperate and now they hurt like hell.'_

_'Oh. I'm sorry,' John frowned. He was still petting David's hair and the little boy was slowly relaxing in his arms, his eyes drooping as he began to fall asleep._

_'You two seem pretty cosy together,' Sherlock smiled fondly._

_'He's a lot easier to handle outside the womb,' John whispered softly as David began snoring lightly, his wings settling around him like a blanket. 'I just wish he'd hurry up and decide to be born. My stomach is mottled with bruises, I can't breathe very well at all anymore, and I think he cracked some ribs when he stretched out the other day. I'm just so ready for him to be out, but he doesn't want to leave me.'_

_'I don't blame him,' Sherlock hummed. 'He doesn't want to deal with all the angel shit out there. Not just yet at least. But I can see your point. He needs to get out of you.'_

_David cracked open an eye. 'Out?' he mumbled sleepily._

_'Out of my tummy,' John said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of David's head. 'So you can be born and Daddy can move on his own again.'_

_'But I'll be thick!'_

_'He means sick,' Sherlock mumbled quietly._

_'Do I really need to get out, Daddy?'_

_'Yes, buddy, I'm afraid you do. Why do you think you'll be sick? Just because you'll be born two months early? Your papa and the doctor can take care of you. They won't let anything bad happen to you. And I'll be there too, though I have this feeling I'll be sleeping for a long time.'_

_David went deadly quiet and nodded, seeming to come to some sort of conclusion. 'Ok,' he said, voice dripping with fear. 'Thee you thoon.' He vanished from the dream._

_Sherlock blinked. 'How strange. You don't think he meant that he's gonna, you know what?'_

_'What? Induce labor?'_

No sooner were the words out of his mouth that he was wrenched from the dream by a blinding pain, gasping for air like a fish out of water.

'John!' Sherlock awoke in a panic. 'Oh god. He's coming, isn't he?'

'Something's wrong,' John gasped out, barely breathing. 'Can't breathe. Think he... Think he... Punctured a lung.'

'Fuck,' Sherlock cursed. 'Brother. Doctor. It's time.' There were two bright flashes and suddenly Sherlock was being pushed out of the way as John and David were tended to.

A mask was put around John's face to help him breathe and a sedative was injected into his veins. He was out like a light in seconds. The doctor prepped John's stomach for the incision and then began cutting into him, pulling the muscles aside and reaching in for the womb. David was already scrambling to get out, his over eagerness being the reason for John's injury. He would be tended to as soon as David was pronounced safe and healthy.

The doctor cut into the womb and David nearly burst out, crying and screaming like any healthy baby should. The doctor shushed him gently and snipped off the umbilical cord, cleaning him gently before wrapping him up in a blanket and passing him to Sherlock. He shooed the brothers from the room as he set about fixing John's lung and the broken ribs that had punctured it.

Sherlock cradled his son carefully, looking down at him with tear filled eyes. 'Papa is so very glad to meet you. I just wish you'd found a nicer way to escape.' He frowned at the sound of his son's breathing. 'His breathing sounds weird. Is it because he's early?'

'That could be it, yes,' Mycroft murmured. 'You have an incubator for him, yes?'

'Of course, brother,' Sherlock said quietly. 'Follow me.' He walked to the spare room that had barely been used since his and John's arrival. A large incubator was awaiting David. He placed his son inside carefully and looked back at his brother. 'Are you just gong to stand there gaping like an idiot or are you going to help me?'

'Right. Yes. Apologies.' He helped Sherlock hook David up to the wires and such inside the incubator before closing him inside and turning the thing on. It whirred gently to life and he could hear air hissing, David relaxing as he began to get air properly. Mycroft stared at his nephew, taking everything in, right down to the brown speckled wings.

'He has mother's wings,' he said softly, staring at said wings like they were the rarest treasure in the universe. Sherlock swallowed thickly. He too was now staring at David. He really did have their mother's wings. It almost hurt to look at.

'I miss her,' he choked out, feeling alarmingly emotional. 'I doubt she'd approve of David if she was still alive though.'

'Our mother was a very caring angel,' Mycroft said softly. 'From what I can remember, she had a kind heart, an open mind, and a good soul. It's a shame she never made it to Guardian status. She would have been a wonderful Guardian Angel.' He looked over to Sherlock and reached out for him, clasping his hand gently. 'I think she would have been proud to see you become a father, no matter the circumstances.'

Sherlock's lips twitched into a smile. 'It's so strange,' he murmured, looking on at the little creature inside of the incubator. 'To think I went from hating the human race with a passion to this. I don't think I'm all that cut out to be a father.'

'Everyone thinks that at first,' Mycroft said softly. 'When my Gregory had his first child with his human wife he was scared to death. But he must have done ok because they had two more together before the divorce. He sees them on weekends now, but he did a great job of raising them. I've met them. They're great kids.' He looked from David to Sherlock again. 'I think you'll be fine. I mean, I'm not one to come to for parenting advice, but I'm sure my Gregory could pass on some words of wisdom if you ever wanted to talk.'

Sherlock glanced up at his brother and laughed. 'Do you think you'll ever have children with Greggy boy? Does he even know about your heats?' He tilted his head and smirked broadly. 'You should, you know. You'd make a great father. And I don't think he'd complain. I've seen you together. You're worse than John and I.'

'I have yet to go into heat around Gregory,' Mycroft said softly. 'I'm not exactly allowed back into his workplace after belittling his entire staff. And I'm away a lot because of David and trying to keep the High Council in the dark. We haven't had a lot of time to, you know, christen the relationship.'

'I didn't need that image in my head quite so vividly but thank you.' Sherlock pulled a face and shook his head. 'Is he aware that you will be taking on a child? I presume you'll need help with David with your minimal experience of being around children. And I can't always be around. I have a duty to John first and foremost. Greg may be helpful with bringing up the child.'

'He knows that I'll be caring for my nephew, yes,' Mycroft said softly, looking down at said nephew, sleeping peacefully. 'But David will have nannies to help care for him. I didn't want to involve Gregory in this. It's too risky.'

'Very true.' Sherlock sighed loudly. 'To be quite frank, I'm sick and tired of all these risks. Being an angel truly sucks.'

'It does, yes,' Mycroft frowned. 'I was there when Castiel fell. I wish I could have said something to him before they cast him out, but I wasn't allowed. I can only hope he and his... Dean... are happy together.'

Sherlock's brow bunched together in a similar frown to his brother's. 'Is there something wrong with us?' he asked quietly. 'Why are so many of us falling for humans? It's unnatural. What about when they ask me to find a mate? I can't exactly bond twice. They'll know something is up.'

'I don't know. Perhaps we're adapting to the times. A change for a better future. Who knows?' He shrugged and turned around, leaving the room to check on the doctor and John. The door was still closed, so he returned to Sherlock and David.

'As for the bonding thing, I don't know about that either,' he said, startling Sherlock slightly. 'You could always use that Molly girl. She's been infatuated with you since she was a fledgling. You could pretend to bond with her. She's still unbonded. She wouldn't know what a real bond felt like. And you would still be partially bonded to her seeing as she's still a virgin. They wouldn't question if the bond was weak seeing as most bonds in the beginning are.'

'Hmmm,' Sherlock hummed in thought, wetting his lips slightly. 'I suppose that is an option. And at least that way I wouldn't have to faff about with being the impregnated one. I imagine if I was I would be most insufferable.'

'I imagine you would too,' Mycroft smirked. 'Talk to the Molly girl soon. You never know when someone may sweep her off her feet. Don't lose this opportunity.'

'As soon as I'm back home I'll be sure to do just that. She'll be surprised to hear from me. It's been such a long time since I've initiated contact with my fellow fledglings.'

'She'll be ecstatic to hear from you,' Mycroft smirked. 'It might help to kiss her on the cheek. Show her some affection.' He looked up suddenly. The doctor was standing in the doorway, wiping his hands of blood.

'He'll live,' he said stiffly. 'Though I put him into a medically induced coma so he could heal without any further complications. He should wake in a couple months time.'

Sherlock swallowed thickly. 'A – a couple of months? What am I supposed to do till then? I can't look after John and David. I – I'm not bloody Superman.'

'Your human will be fine,' the doctor said, dismissing Sherlock's worries with a wave of his hand. 'Just make sure he's comfortable and focus on caring for your child.'

Sherlock nodded, his eyes quickly moving back to David. 'How long till he can breathe on his own?'

'A month, perhaps,' the doctor shrugged. 'He's not full angel, so I'm just guessing here. He looks healthy enough, just a bit smaller than I'm used to seeing.'

Sherlock ran a hand through his curly locks. 'It's going to be an awful long two months,' he sighed softly, taking a seat by David's incubator.

'I'm on call if you need any help,' the doctor said before disappearing in a flash of light. Mycroft squeezed Sherlock's shoulder softly, murmuring something about the Council before he too disappeared.

**...::-::...**

The next two months were as hard and as long as Sherlock had anticipated, maybe even more so. He watched as John lay in bed and their son grew. After the first month David could breathe on his own and Sherlock would spend most of his time cuddling him tight, telling him stories about his daddy. John looked so blissfully peaceful in bed. Sherlock was envious of him. The worry for both his mate and his child was causing quite alarming stress levels inside of him. The stress was evident as some of his feathers began to fall out and even more so when he began to feel completely drained with exhaustion. It wasn't as if he could pop into John's dreams either to check up on him. Something about him being in an induced coma meant that Sherlock was refrained from doing so.

Sherlock concluded that he was ill with the worry after the millionth time he'd gone to the bathroom to throw up what little contents he had in his stomach. He picked David up gently and walked into John's bedroom, curling up beside him weakly, baby David fast asleep within seconds on his chest.

John's dreams didn't make any sense. He was still round with child, but he could move about like normal. Sometimes Sherlock was there but he didn't have his wings. Other times he was with Mary and she was pregnant with David. He would rip himself right out of her womb, blood everywhere, and then he'd transform into Sherlock, covered in those boys' blood. He screamed and ran away, but the demented Sherlock-David hybrid caught up easily, devouring him painfully slow. He wished he could wake up to escape his nightmare, but he was trapped. The hybrid creature munching on him slowly, keeping him alive for as long as possible, the pain unbearable. Why couldn't he just wake up?!

**...::-::...**

Two more weeks passed by and John still hadn't woken. Sherlock was sat by his bedside, clasping John's hand tightly.

'Please wake up,' he whispered. 'Please. I can't take much more of this. I'm ill, John. Really ill. I can barely look after David. Mycroft is with him right now. I just – please wake up. I'm begging you.' He stood and moved onto the bed, pulling John into a weak embrace, his head lolling onto John's chest as he passed out almost painfully.

John was still being devoured, slowly, inch by agonising inch. He couldn't take it anymore. He screamed at the top of his lungs, hoping someone, anyone in the real world would hear him. Where the hell was Sherlock? Why hadn't he saved him yet?

Sherlock grunted weakly as he heard a loud sort of wailing sound hit his eardrums. The first thing he thought was, God no David. But then he realised that he was still limply curled up against John. His eyes widened as he realised the sounds were coming from the man next to him.

'John,' he called, his voice cracking. 'John, it's ok. Just open your eyes.'

John was caught between his dream and reality. He could feel the pain of being devoured but he could hear Sherlock talking to him and touching the arm that shouldn't be there. He screamed again and thrashed about, unable to truly wake up. Sherlock grunted again and moved so he was kissing John's lips softly.

'Wake up. Please just wake up,' he begged him.

John gasped loudly and lurched up from the bed, tears streaming down his face in torrents. He sobbed loudly and clutched at the body on top of him, sobbing into its shoulder. Sherlock hugged John tightly and rocked him back and forth in an attempt to calm him.

'Shhh now. Everything is ok. I'm here. David's fine. Shhh. Calm down.'

'You were eating me!' John wailed, clutching Sherlock tight. 'David turned into you and you were eating me!'

'I can assure you that neither I or David has a desire to eat you,' Sherlock huffed tiredly. 'Now, please calm down. I really don't feel well as it is. I don't need you yelling down my ear. Though it's truly good to hear your voice again.'

John sobbed brokenly and shoved Sherlock away, curling in on himself and turning over. Sherlock didn't want to comfort him. Sherlock didn't want him. He knew it. As soon as the baby was born Sherlock would want nothing to do with him. He whimpered and clenched his eyes shut, swallowing down around the lump in his throat.

'John,' Sherlock groaned as he hit the floor with an audible thud. He tried to push himself to his feet but he felt so god damn weak. It was impossible. 'John, please don't be like this. I've only just got you back.' Tears shined in his eyes and his vision became blurry. 'I love you,' he gasped out, trying to fight off the feeling of passing out at any second.

'No you don't!' John cried softly. 'You just wanted David. Where is he? You aren't even going to let me see my son?'

'My–' Sherlock took a deep breath, trying to stop the room from spinning so violently. 'Mycroft has him. I – John – help me.' A sob broke free of his lips as his eyes rolled to the back of his skull.

'How?' John spat viciously. 'What could I possibly do that would be of help to you?'

Mycroft knocked on the door right then. He'd heard an awful commotion coming from John's room. He gazed at a trembling John and then his eyes fell to the floor.

'Dear lord! Sherlock!' He ran to his brother's limp body and knelt beside him, his face creased in concern.

'Where's David?' John demanded, not bothering to see what had Mycroft all concerned. 'I want to see my son.'

'He's in the spare room,' Mycroft growled. 'Though I don't see how David prioritises over your currently unconscious angel.' He dabbed at a cut on Sherlock's head with the corner of his sleeve. It looked as though he'd been pushed. 'What on Earth happened?'

'I woke up crying and he told me to shut up,' John huffed. 'He doesn't care about me. Only David and himself. I was right all along. He never wanted me. He only wanted me to have David. Where is he? Are you keeping him from me too? I want to see my son!'

'I already said where David is,' Mycroft snarled, his teeth bared. 'He's in the spare room. I'm not keeping him from you! Just go and see him! You're obviously too ignorant to see how sick with worry Sherlock is! If you believe he doesn't love you then you bloody need glasses!' Mycroft heaved Sherlock's far too skinny body into his arms, a waterfall of feathers drifting from his wings. Mycroft frowned. Angel feathers only came out that easily when the angel was sick or stressed. Sherlock was both. 'You can see your son but you better bloody stay away from my brother, or I will have to take drastic action. Is that understood?'

'Sounds good to me!' John growled. 'Now leave!'

Mycroft left without saying another word. He brought Sherlock to the couch and tended to his head, frowning slightly when he felt the warning signs of a fever.

'Oh, baby brother. What am I to do with you?'

John slid out of bed and crumpled in a ball on the floor, his legs weak from disuse. How long had he been in a coma? He turned to sit on his bum and pulled out the catheter he was attached to. It was painful and uncomfortable, but he managed it. He hauled himself up into a wheelchair and practiced moving about the room before venturing out and to the spare bedroom, barely registering the feathers on the floor.

David was making a loud fuss in his crib, flailing his arms and legs about. John tutted and wheeled himself closer, peering at David from the top of the crib.

'Hey there little man,' he smiled softly. 'Daddy's finally awake. And look how big you are. My goodness.'

Little David reached out a hand to his daddy, his face scrunching up further as he craved contact. He made a sharp wailing sound and kicked out his legs unhappily.

'Shush now. Daddy's here,' John said softly, reaching in and picking David up, cradling him in his arms. He was finally holding his son, and god he was beautiful. John pressed a soft kiss to David's forehead and hugged him close. David gurgled and blinked up at his daddy in fascination. He giggled and cuddled against him.

John cried softly, cuddling David close. He was absolutely perfect. He loved him already, and now he felt guilty for treating Sherlock so poorly. He sniffled and wheeled himself out to the sitting room slowly, David clutching to him tightly. Sherlock was sprawled out on the couch, Mycroft tending to him with a practised ease.

'Is he gonna be ok?' he asked softly, cradling David close. Mycroft sent a pointed glare in John's direction and pushed a hand through his little brother's hair.

'I really don't know. He's been ill for over two months. That's stress for you.'

'Two months?' John swallowed thickly. 'Is that how long I've been asleep?'

'Two months and two weeks to be exact. He hasn't stopped worrying about you, you know? Look how poorly he's gotten himself.'

'I didn't realise – I'm sorry,' John said softly, wheeling closer and taking Sherlock's hand in his. 'I'm so sorry, Sherlock.' Sherlock stirred slightly but didn't wake.

'I'll leave you to it. Look after them both,' Mycroft said softly, disappearing in a flash of light.

'I may call on you again, Mycroft!' John called after him, knowing he could hear him. 'I'm in a wheelchair and Sherlock is ill. I'm gonna need a lot of help!'

David began making a fuss and John sighed. He wheeled himself into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle from the fridge, giving it to David who guzzled it greedily.

Sherlock slowly came to. He groaned. His head was killing him. 'J-ohn?' he choked out.

'I'm feeding David!' John called back. 'Be right there!'

'John?' Sherlock moaned, slipping off the sofa and onto the floor with a thud.

'Oh good god,' John groaned, rolling his eyes. He pulled the now empty bottle out of David's grasp and set it on the counter. He wheeled himself out to the sitting room and frowned at Sherlock's sprawled form on the ground.

'You ok?' he asked gently. 'Can you get up? Because I'm not strong enough to help you.'

Sherlock frowned and squinted his eyes. 'John? Is tha you? Mmm. You look good. Though I dun remember there being two of you.'

'Oh god,' John groaned again. 'Mycroft! Please! I really need some help! Sherlock's seeing double!'

'He won't come. Meeting wif High Council,' Sherlock giggled. 'Oh, John. You're so pretty. I wuvv you sooo much.'

'Oh god,' John groaned, running a hand down his face. 'What the hell am I supposed to do with you?'

David squirmed in discontent, clearly uncomfortable with their current situation. John sighed and wheeled him back to his crib, placing him inside and draping a blanket over him.

'Go to sleep, little man. Daddy's gotta take care of Papa.' David cooed in response and curled up in a ball, snoring softly within seconds. John wheeled himself into the bathroom and got out a bottle of aspirin, wheeling back out to Sherlock and dragging him up into a sitting position.

'Sherlock, take these, please,' he said, giving Sherlock some pills. 'Just swallow them and to back go sleep. I need to exercise my legs.'

Sherlock took the pills and swallowed them dry. 'John, s-sorry bout earlier. Dun feel good. Haven't felt good in so long. Mmm glad you're awake.'

'I'm glad to be awake too,' John said softly. 'Think you can get up in my lap? I can take you back to bed so you don't have to sleep on the couch.'

Sherlock nodded and weakly clambered onto John's lap. 'My head. It's killing me. Mmmf. Hurts.'

'I gave you some aspirin,' John said softly, wheeling back to the bedroom. 'Just get some rest. I'll bring you some more pills and some water when you wake.'

'Are you still angry with me?' Sherlock choked out, tears springing in the corners of his eyes. 'I dunno what I did wrong. Sorry. So sorry.'

'I thought you didn't want me, that's why I was angry,' John said softly. 'We'll talk more when you're feeling better. Climb into bed and get some rest. I need to start using my legs again.'

'How could you even think that?' Sherlock huffed as he rolled onto the bed with a slight groan.

'You... When I woke up, you told me to quiet down because you were tired. It sounded very selfish and uncaring to me, so my mind automatically jumped to being unwanted.' John shrugged. 'I mean, I expect you'll leave me some day. You could disappear and not tell me where you are. Same thing. It always happens eventually. People come into my life and then they just leave.'

'I feel like my head's on fire for fuck's sake. I didn't like the fact that you were shouting down my ear. I also didn't like how distraught you were. And I'm not leaving you! I love you. I – I really love you.'

'Oh. Well, I'm sorry for misunderstanding.' John frowned deeply. 'Do you want me to get you a cold cloth for your head? It could help. My mum used to put them on my forehead whenever I was feverish. It might work for you too.'

Sherlock shook his head. 'It's fine. Nothing I can't cope with. Just go. Need sleep. Haven't slept in so long.'

'Ok. Will you get better now that I'm awake?'

'I haven't a clue,' Sherlock choked out painfully.

'Well, for both our sakes, let's hope you do. Now sleep. I need to exercise.' He kissed Sherlock gently and wheeled away, closing the door behind him.

'I fucking love you!' Sherlock called after John and closed his eyes, falling fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some end notes from TSA:
> 
> Next chapter will be up next Saturday. We've stuck with this schedule enough I think we'll be able to keep it. Come June, things might slow down a little bit, but we'll try to update as best we can.
> 
> Until next time!
> 
> TSA + MJCF


	24. Taking Care of Angels

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Happy Friday everyone! 
> 
> I'm updating early because I'm going to be concentrating on finishing some assignments tomorrow. I have three weeks left of college (eeep scary!)
> 
> There are lots of warnings for this chapter, so please read the warnings before you continue: Sherlock gets attacked, mentions of his injuries, lots of Mystrade smut, Mycroft going into heat, graphic rape scene (I seriously would recommend turning around if you get triggered by that subject) 
> 
> -MJCF

Sherlock slept for three days. John came in to check on him periodically. David grew fast, though it was a subtle difference. He was part human after all. John supposed if he was a true angel he'd look like a two year old by that point. Right now he looked like he was about a year when he was actually just over two and a half months. His legs got stronger every day and he was up and walking around normally by the time Sherlock woke. He brought him some water, smiling warmly at him.

'How'd you sleep?' he asked quietly, little David straddling his waist.

'I slept alright,' Sherlock's voice cracked. He looked at David with longing. 'Can I have him?'

'Yeah. 'Course,' John smiled softly. He passed David over and grinned as the little boy clutched Sherlock tight, his too large wings flapping happily, like a dog's tail would.

Sherlock breathed out softly. 'Thank god I'm awake. I'm sorry little one. It was my turn to be ill.'

David giggled and kissed his cheek. 'Papa!'

'So far he can say "papa," "daddy," and "Myc,"' John said proudly. 'Among other wordless syllables and noises. He's not nearly as coherent and vocal as in the dream, but he's getting there.'

'He's my clever boy.' Sherlock kissed both of David's cheeks and hugged him tightly. 'I missed you. Yes I did,' he cooed softly.

'He's our clever boy,' John corrected Sherlock, combing his curls out of both his angels' faces.

'Yes, he is,' Sherlock grinned. 'Our clever angel baba.'

'He's starting to walk already too,' John beamed proudly. 'Show Papa, David. Can you stand up for him?'

Sherlock laughed softly as David crawled from his lap and struggled to his feet.

'Papa! Daddy! Up!'

'Clever little man!' Sherlock exclaimed, beaming brightly. He glanced up at John and smirked. 'You're completely besotted with him, aren't you?'

'Fraid so,' John smirked, holding a hand up for David to high-five. 'He's got me wrapped around his little finger.'

'Wanna sleep with us?' Sherlock murmured as David high-fived John. 'I'm still exhausted and David's in need of a nap.'

'Maybe when I come back from my jog,' John said, helping David arrange his wings so they were wrapped around him snugly. 'I need to lose this baby weight before I go back home. But I'll lay down with you guys when I come back. Promise.'

'You don't look fat,' Sherlock tusked. 'In fact there's barely anything to you. But, mmm ok. Night.' He settled down in the bed sheets and made sure David was comfortable on his chest.

'G'night. I love you both.' He pressed soft kisses to his angels' foreheads and closed the door behind him as he left. He went outside, locking the front door behind him, and began to jog around the little island, his heart pumping and his skin warmed by the sun. Maybe he'd work on getting a tan or sunburn so that it would look like he'd actually been travelling. Sherlock and David slept on for the entire afternoon, waiting for their John to return home safely.

After a couple hours John had had a great run and had worked up a sweat. He made it back home, panting from the exercise but overall feeling quite wonderful. He unlocked the door and went inside, locking it behind him and tossing the key on the counter. He entered the bedroom and smiled at his sleeping angels. Better than Weeping Angels any day. He stripped and tossed his sweaty clothes in the laundry, walking into the shower and cleaning himself up. He pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of boxers before climbing into bed with his boys, pulling the covers around himself and snuggling close, falling asleep easily.

_'Daddy!' David entered his daddy's dream in a panic, his little wings flapping wildly. 'Daddy help! Papa ith all thained up! He can't ethcape! Help him!'_

_'Oh no,' John groaned. 'David, do me a favour and stay here in the meadow, ok? Let Daddy help Papa by himself. Here.' He conjured up a bee plushee and gave it to the little boy. 'Stay here and play, ok?'_

_David hugged the bee plushee tightly and nodded, eyes frightened._

_'It's gonna be ok, David. Promise.' John pressed a kiss to the top of his son's he's before venturing into Sherlock's dream. It was as dark and scary as he remembered, if not more so due to Sherlock's illness._

_'Sherlock!' he called out, searching him out. 'Sherlock! It's John! I'm here now! It's ok! You can come to the meadow with me and David!'_

_'I can't!' Sherlock screamed. 'I'm trapped! Oh god, John! Help! I can't escape! Ah! It hurts! Fuck!'_

_'Sherlock?!' John raced toward his voice and found him struggling against his chains, the cuffs cutting into his skin._

_'How do I get you out?' he asked frantically. 'Is there a key or something I can do to, I don't know, distract you from being here?'_

_'I – I don't know,' Sherlock gasped out, pulling at his restraints. 'John, I'm in fucking agony. Please – help me.'_

_John did the only thing he could think of that could help: he pulled Sherlock close and kissed him passionately, sucking and nipping his angel's bottom lip before parting them and allowing his tongue to delve inside. Sherlock could practically feel his restraints melting with the fiery passion of the kiss. He tumbled forward and fell into John's arms, gasping for air._

_John continued to kiss Sherlock until he felt soft grass beneath his back. He pulled away, gasping for air. David rushed over, poking at his daddies to make sure they were ok._

_Sherlock sobbed into John's shoulder, trembling. He mumbled, 'Thank you,' over and over again. David huffed, not getting any attention from his papa or his daddy. John soothed Sherlock as best he could, reaching a hand out to David and gesturing to Sherlock._

_'Hug Papa and make him better,' he said softly._

_David jumped into his papa's arms and cuddled him tightly. 'Are you ok now Papa?' he asked, his voice small and gentle._

_'I am now, yes,' Sherlock hiccupped. 'Now that I'm with my boys.' He smiled weakly at John. John gave him a small smile and pecked him on the lips gently, smoothing a hand through his hair._

_'I think we all need to take some time to calm down. So let's lay back and let the sun warm us, yeah?'_

_'Yeah,' Sherlock answered shakily. 'Can we just relax for a little bit? I feel ill and this is a dream. God. The stress.'_

_'Easy, love. You're losing feathers,' John frowned, a small pile of feathers forming behind Sherlock as his wings trembled._

_'Did you not see my feather loss whilst we were awake? I barely have any left. I can't fly. My wings are useless. Absolutely useless,' Sherlock huffed, frowning too._

_'I saw. I saved them all. They'll grow back though, right?'_

_Sherlock shrugged. 'Not too sure on that account. All I know is that it's a pain in the arse.'_

_'Oh. Will you be ok when they start growing back? Like, how long does it usually take?'_

_'Apart from being insufferable and in excruciating pain I should be alright. And a couple of weeks minimum. That's if I'm healthy mind you.'_

_'Ah. Ok. Well, let's get you healthy then. So, you're stressed out, have a headache, and a fever. I can take care of that no problem.' He smiled at Sherlock brightly, flashing David a smile when he gave a small huff of protest from being ignored for so long._

_'Mmm. And maybe you can f-u-c-k me and make me feel better.' He glanced at David and laughed, the little boy was trying to figure out what the letters spelt out._

_'Pretty soon you won't be able to spell around him,' John laughed. 'But yes, I can do that too.'_

_'Oh well. He still won't know what it means.' He huffed a laugh._

_'Ith it when Daddy ith moving a lot?' David asked innocently. 'Like when you got me to bounthe on hith bladder?'_

_'Oh, dear lord,' Sherlock facepalmed._

_'This is your doing,' John scowled. 'I told you not to involve him! He's smart, Sherlock. Really smart. He'll be able to piece things together.'_

_'I know,' Sherlock sighed softly. 'Does it make you feel better if I told you I found out about the birds and the bees from seeing Mycroft, you know, with someone. I'm disturbed for life.'_

_'No, actually,' John shuddered. 'That's a disturbing mental image.'_

_'Mmm. Tell me about it,' Sherlock pouted. 'I'm scarred for life.'_

_'Disturbing mental image aside, let's just relax, ok? I think we all need a break.'_

_'Ok.' Sherlock hummed as he found himself laid out on a soft bed underneath the sun._

_John snuggled close to his two angel boys and hummed in content, wrapping an arm around Sherlock's waist possessively. Sherlock hummed and cuddled up to John, little David shuffling up too._

_'Is it bad that this is a dream and all I want to do is sleep?'_

_'Can you sleep in a dream?' John asked, yawning. 'Because I could really go for a nap in my nap.'_

_John was met by two sets of snoring. Both Sherlock and David had fallen asleep._

_'Guess that answers that question,' he shrugged. He curled up against Sherlock and promptly fell asleep, completely and utterly exhausted._

_'John – John please – I – John!' Sherlock screamed for his lover in both sets of sleep, caught in a nightmare._

_'Sherlock?!' John called out, searching for him frantically. 'Sherlock! Where are you?!'_

_'I'm lost! So lost! Help! John!'_

_'Sherlock! Just follow the sound of my voice! You'll be ok! I'm here, Sherlock! And I'm not gonna leave you!'_

_Sherlock screamed and ran toward John's voice, toppling into his dream covered in cuts and blood._

_'Oh honey,' John said worriedly. 'Shhh. It's ok. You're here now. You're safe. You're safe.'_

_'No! Wake up! I'm hurt! They're hurting me! Wake up!' Sherlock's body thrashed violently, his screams getting louder in volume, tears streaking down his cheeks._

_'Who's hurting you?!' John demanded, a low growl rippling from his throat._

_'Angels,' Sherlock gasped out. 'Just fucking wake up! Take David and fucking run!'_

_'Angels?! They found us?!'_

_Sherlock shook his head, sobbing. 'This isn't about David! Fucking wake up! Protect him!'_

_'All the way? Or into the first dream? Tell me what the fuck is going on!'_

_'All the way,' Sherlock swallowed thickly. It was becoming increasingly harder to breathe. 'I'm a soldier, John. They've come back for me. Please, just get David out of there before they notice he's different. Please.'_

_'Soldier? Will you be ok? Will you find us?'_

_'Yes. I'll be fine. See you both in a jiffy. Once I've dealt with the fuckers attacking me. Can you just leave? Really. Wake up!'_

_'I love you,' John said hurriedly, kissing Sherlock soundly before waking up with a loud gasp._

There were indeed menacing looking angels standing over Sherlock, glaring at John as he woke. He quickly grabbed David and cradled the boy to him, hiding his wings from the soldiers. He dashed from the room, grabbing the emergency bag they'd had packed since they arrived and dashed out of the house, David fussing and crying the entire time.

Sherlock stared up at the brutish angels standing around him. They'd already caused him a hefty amount of damage to his vessel. There was blood soaking the entire bed and himself.

'What do you want from me?' he growled, spitting out a mouthful of foul tasting blood.

'Nothing, freak,' one of the older and more experienced angels snapped back at him, fixing a icy cold glare on him. 'We just came back to finish a little bit of business, that's all.'

'I–' Sherlock was barely able to get a word in edgewise before the two other angels standing behind their leader began beating the shit out of him. He hadn't the strength to fight them. He could feel more blood starting to pool inside of his mouth and his vision was blurring. Then came the chants of 'freak!' as he passed out.

He was vaguely aware of suddenly being encompassed in his brother's arms but then there was nothing but darkness, his brother's choked sobs slowly fading into a low buzz.

**...::-::...**

John and David found refuge in an abandoned house just inside town, David still crying bloody murder. John hushed him as best he could, even unwrapping his wings so they could flail about, but nothing worked. David was worried about Sherlock, and so was John.

'David, please quiet down,' he said softly, bouncing slightly to see if it would help. 'If they find us we could be in very big trouble. Please be quiet. Please.'

David managed to cry quieter, but he was still crying. John sat down and cradled him against his chest, rocking him gently. He sincerely hoped Sherlock was ok, but something told him he wasn't. Something tickling at the back of his mind. The bond. It was partially blocked. So Sherlock was in pain and was trying to protect him. He closed his eyes and sighed, hoping beyond hope that Mycroft was with him.

Mycroft travelled to the abandoned house in a flash of light, walking over to John and David with sorrow filled eyes. 'You're both going to have to come back to my mansion. It's safe there. Sherlock is being tended to and I assure you that the angels that attacked him will be dealt with severely. I already have my people on their tracks.'

John nearly jumped out of his skin when Mycroft appeared, holding the now sleeping David close.

'They attacked him?' he swallowed thickly. 'Is he gonna be ok?'

'I'm afraid so,' Mycroft said gently, sighing. 'It's rather bad but the doctors assure me that he will make a full recovery. Until then I think it best for you to stay with me. I apologise if you feel uncomfortable with the idea but I will not allow my nephew to stay in this place a moment longer.'

'I wasn't planning on staying here,' John said, looking around the dusty house. 'I was waiting to hear from Sherlock. Just get the bag and we can go.'

Mycroft walked over to the bag and lifted it, sliding it onto his shoulder. He held out a hand to John. 'Trust me. Take my hand,' he said softly, attempting a smile to calm his baby brother's human.

John swallowed and held David close. He was beginning to wake and was sniffling already. He'd need to be changed and fed when they got to the mansion. John reached out and grasped Mycroft's hand, nodding his assent. Mycroft held onto John's hand as tightly as he could and transported them away. They landed in his mansion, a rather grim looking Gregory standing there. He frowned and gently let go of the human's hand.

'What's the news of my brother?' he asked Gregory, his voice filled with a slight hint of panic.

'Contusions, some broken bones, and major blood loss,' Greg reported, looking at John and the angel baby. 'He's sedated now, but they expect him to make a full recovery given his healing abilities.'

Mycroft hummed and nodded. 'Good. Glad to hear it.' He turned to John and David. 'This is Sherlock's human and my nephew. Would you mind showing them to one of the bedrooms?'

'Sure.' He smiled at John politely. John gave him a shy smile in return. He took the bag from Mycroft and followed Greg down a long hallway, entering a large room with a crib in the corner.

'You two will be staying here,' Greg said. 'You have a private, en suite bathroom, a double bed, and a TV all to yourself. Even your son has his own space.' He gestured to the crib and gave John another smile. 'If you need anything don't be afraid to ask. I'm Greg, by the way.' He held out a hand.

'John,' John said, taking the offered hand and shaking it. 'And this is David.' David buried his face in John's chest, incredibly shy upon meeting the stranger.

'Nice to meet you both. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me.' He left in a flurry, shooing maids away. John let the bag slip off his shoulder and sat on the bed, David wriggling in his arms.

'Da! Hungy,' he pouted.

'I know, bud,' John said softly. 'I'll feed ya in a minute.' He kissed David's head and laid him down on the bed, rooting around in the bag for a bottle. He picked David back up, the little boy straddling his waist, and began to search for the kitchen.

'Greg?' he called out softly. 'I need some milk for David.'

Greg popped his head out from around the corner and smiled, waving John closer. 'Come on in. I don't bite.'

John smiled softly and entered the massive kitchen, setting the bottle down on a counter. A maid filled it almost immediately, David reaching out for it. John passed it to him and he drank the milk greedily, guzzling it down.

'Uh... Thanks,' John managed to say. 'That's all I needed, so, I'm gonna go take a shower.' He fled before Greg could say anything and returned to his assigned room, placing David in the crib with the bottle and a blanket.

'Daddy will be right back,' he told David. 'Stay here and stay out of trouble.'

David gurgled and smirked, giving John a look that said, 'What kind of trouble could I get into? I'm a baby.' John sighed and rolled his eyes. He pressed a soft kiss to David's head and disappeared into the bathroom. The room was enormous! A walk in shower, a jacuzzi bathtub, a private loo, and two sinks! Who needed a bathroom that big? He turned on the bath and added some bubbles to the water, climbing in and turning on the jets when the water was high enough. He quickly entered a state of complete relaxation, his tense muscles unknotting and his entire body going limp. He sighed happily and settled into the water, a jet massaging his back gently.

**...::-::...**

When Sherlock awoke he was aware he was in excruciating pain and the fact that he was no longer in the bedroom at the safe house. He sniffed and groaned loudly, catching a whiff of his brother's scent. His brother's human was here too. Great, just what he needed. Ignoring the pain, Sherlock pulled at the wires he was attached to. The pain medication dripping into his veins wasn't doing much for him anyway. He rolled from the bed and attempted to stand but the moment he did a sharp pain rocketed through him. He screamed bloody murder and collapsed onto the floor, writhing in pain.

A medical team came rushing in and helped Sherlock back into bed, hooking him back up to his IVs and wires, increasing the pain medication and giving him something to help him relax.

'John! I need my John! Please!' Sherlock called out hoarsely, his world slowly fading into darkness once more.

'Your human is here,' a nurse told Sherlock before he passed out. 'He's safe. Just rest. He'll visit you when you're stable.'

**...::-::..**

Mycroft shook his head at the sight of his baby brother laid out in a bed, almost as pale as the sheets.

'He looks so fragile,' he whispered, turning around to face Gregory with an ashen face.

'He'll be ok,' Greg assured him. 'He's a Holmes. And he was a soldier once. He's fought worse battles than this.'

Mycroft's mouth twitched into a half smile. 'Yes, I suppose you're right. I just worry about him. Constantly.'

'As you should,' Greg smiled softly. 'Now let him be. He needs his rest. And you need a little something to eat. Come on.'

'I'm not due another meal for at least another two hours,' Mycroft stated softly, looking down at his stomach with sad eyes. The past few months covering for his brother had taken a toll on him in more ways than one, his weight being the most telling. 'I'm on a strict diet.'

'Right. Forgive me, I almost forgot. Well, want to spend some time alone?' He grinned cheekily and wiggled his eyebrows, his cheeks flushing slightly.

Mycroft shook his head in amusement, a smile replacing his frown. 'Has my dirty, little human been craving me again?Dear lord. You can't get enough of me, can you?' He stepped into his Gregory's breathing space. 'I suggest we take this to our bedroom.'

Greg grasped Mycroft's face and pulled him down for a searing kiss, leaping up into his arms and wrapping his legs around his waist.

'Ah, Gregory,' Mycroft mumbled against his human's lips, stumbling backwards all the way into his very conveniently placed room and slamming the door behind him. 'Have I told you how beautiful you are lately?' He dropped Gregory onto his soft king sized bed and clambered on top of him. 'And how much I think I'm in love with you for that matter.'

'Not recently, no,' Greg breathed against his angel's lips. 'So why don't you tell me.'

'I love you more than words can describe.' Mycroft's wings flapped in excitement as he kissed his Gregory's neck tenderly, his lips barely scraping over the surface of the skin.

'Good. As it should be,' Greg moaned, arching into Mycroft's barely there touches. 'And I think it's safe to say that I feel the same way.'

'I'm glad to hear that,' Mycroft said softly, continuing with his light caresses. 'I was wondering if – if I could penetrate you. I wish to make love with you, Gregory. I know that you are intimidated by my, um, family jewels. Which is why it's always been you to penetrate me. But please allow me. I shall be careful with you.'

'Are – are you sure you can fit?' Greg swallowed thickly, looking down at the enormous bulge in Mycroft's trousers. He was so intimidated by his angel's huge cock. Mycroft had never complained about his size, but Greg's cock looked minuscule compared to Myc's.

'I am certain of it,' Mycroft reassured his human gently. 'I will be as careful as I can. If anything gets too uncomfortable then just tell me. I'll stop. Please, trust me. I would never hurt you.'

'O-ok,' Greg stammered, swallowing thickly. 'But go slow and careful. I haven't been... penetrated... since my Uni experimentation days.'

Mycroft studied Gregory carefully. 'Would you like me to make you feel calmer? It may help. I might risk hurting you if you're tense.'

'N-no,' Greg shook his head. 'Let me try to ease into it. I can do this. Just go slow.'

'I shall go as slow as you want me to,' Mycroft assured him. His dainty hands pulled lightly at Gregory's tie, slipping it off. Then came the shirt. He picked the buttons off one by one, kissing each piece of revealed flesh along the way. He grinned as he came across Gregory's nipple ring and flicked it, laughing softly at the moan it elicited from the man below him.

'I just couldn't bear to get rid of that now,' Greg moaned, his body lurching as Mycroft sucked the ring into his mouth. 'Thank god for my rebellious Uni days.'

Mycroft flicked his tongue against the metal ring, pushing it in and out. 'I am quite glad for those days too,' he cooed softly.

'Keep going,' Greg moaned, pushing down on Mycroft's head. 'Don't stop now.'

Mycroft took Gregory's nipple prisoner once more. His hands wandered down and helped him out of his trousers. Gregory was fully exposed now and so, so beautiful. Greg whimpered and writhed under his angel's influence, his very erect cock resting in the dip of his stomach, a small pool of precum forming by his belly button.

'I want you to undress me,' Mycroft murmured against Gregory's mouth softly. Greg kissed Mycroft soundly as he began working on loosening his tie, tossing it to the floor. He tore Myc's suit jacket off him, his waistcoat and shirt following soon after.

'Why do you always wear these bloody suits?' he groaned into the kiss. 'They're quite a hassle to remove in the heat of the moment. Worse than a woman's bra.'

'What do you suggest? That I start walking around naked?' Mycroft smirked. 'Besides, I happen to know that me in a suit is an erotic sight for you.'

'It is, yes. And it's horribly inconvenient at times.' Greg unbuckled Myc's belt and popped the button on his trousers, easing down the zip to alleviate the pressure on his massive cock. His massive, massive cock. He swallowed thickly, his doubts beginning to rise.

'Gregory,' Mycroft sighed softly. 'We don't have to do this. It's perfectly fine if you want to back out.'

'N-no. It's fine. I'm fine.' He swallowed again. 'I want to try. I do. So... let's get your trousers off and then you can help me relax. Without your influence this time. Try to actually do it like a normal human would, ok?'

Mycroft frowned and huffed a laugh. 'Still trying to deny the fact an angel wants to get in your pants? I'm not human, Gregory. I'd appreciate if you remembered that little fact.'

'I know that you aren't human, Mycroft,' Greg scowled. 'How could I forget with those massive wings and that... that cock. Jesus fucking Christ that cock. But I'm not denying anything. I know you're an angel, I'm just trying to get you to become more in touch with your humanity. So just – I don't know! Consider how I'm feeling and try to help me! Without your angel powers! Practice for some point in the future when I'm going to be distraught and I want your comfort and not your influence.'

Mycroft sighed again and kissed Gregory softly. 'I'm sorry, dear. Have I been insensitive? I do apologise. I'm not very good with the whole emotions malarkey. I'll get there though. I promise. I just can't help thinking back to our first time. Honestly, it was plain as day that you were imagining me as a human. It rather hurt to say the least.'

'It was to help me not feel like I was betraying God,' Greg huffed, shucking Mycroft's trousers down and off. 'I was so worried at first that we were going to be discovered and killed. And while sometimes I see you as a human more so than an angel, all I'm seeing is you. I don't care if you're human or not. I just want you. Though I'd appreciate it if you worked on the whole emotions thing.'

'God,' Mycroft scoffed loudly, 'has left the building. Just us arrogant, emotionally constipated angels now.'

'Yes, you told me that after our first time. Woulda been nice to know beforehand.' He sighed loudly and ran a hand through his hair. 'Just hurry up and get on with it. I'm losing interest.' He looked down at his cock and it was indeed flagging, softening against his belly.

'Well, we can't have that can we?' Mycroft tusked, moving downward to suck on Gregory's nipple once more. He hummed and toyed with the nipple piercing playfully with the tip of his tongue. Greg sucked in a sharp breath, letting it out as a loud whimper. His body was twitching, craving more, craving Mycroft. He whined and wiggled his hips.

Mycroft grinned around his human's nipple and with a final lap of his tongue released it. He moved gingerly down Gregory's body. He grabbed his thighs and pushed his legs further apart so that they could accommodate his head. And then he began lapping at a body part that up till now, in his opinion, should always remain untouched by others. But it seemed to excite his lover so he continued pushing his hot tongue against the tight entrance.

Greg's body twitched madly, his legs shaking. He moaned at the intense sensations shooting through his body, Mycroft's tongue a fucking sensational thing. He rocked his hips forward, begging him for more. Mycroft lapped happily at Gregory's entrance, chuckling occasionally at the sounds he was forcing his darling human to make. He pulled back and sucked his fingers into his mouth, coating them with saliva.

'I'll go slow,' he said, his voice muffled between Gregory's legs as he inserted one finger slowly. Greg whimpered at the intrusion, squeezing around it tightly.

'I'm fine,' he said when Mycroft tried to pull out. 'I'm fine. Just let me ease into it.' He relaxed his sphincter muscles slightly and nodded, giving Mycroft permission to continue. Mycroft licked his lips and hummed, the noises coming from his Gregory were absolutely delicious. He pumped his finger in and out for a long while, allowing Gregory to get used to the feeling.

'Shall I add another now?' he asked softly.

'Yes,' Greg moaned. 'Yes, please.'

Mycroft gently prodded another finger inside of Gregory and started to scissor him, stretching him as wide as possible. Greg gasped and whimpered, rocking back on his angel's fingers. More. He needed more. Oh god please. Mycroft chuckled softly and added a third finger, stretching Gregory even wider. He'd have to be wide enough for his overly large cock. He didn't want to hurt him in anyway.

'Oh fuck,' Greg moaned, his entire body trembling with want. 'Can I have your cock yet? Please. Oh my god I need it. Need you. Oh god please.'

'Are you certain?' Mycroft asked gently. 'You feel ready for me?'

'I don't know. Will you fit?'

'There is only one way to find out for certain,' Mycroft retorted, still pumping his fingers in and out of his Gregory.

'One more,' Greg groaned, rocking back on Mycroft's fingers harder. 'Give me one more, just to be sure.'

Mycroft smiled softly and withdrew his fingers slightly before inserted a fourth finger, stretching him farther still. Greg gasped, a hand slamming down on the bed and gripping the sheet tight. He whimpered and clenched around Myc's fingers, sucking them in deeper.

'Give me your cock,' he groaned.

'Your wish is my command, Gregory Lestrade,' Mycroft purred softly and pulled his fingers out. He readjusted himself so he was sat between his lover's legs. A hand reached for one of Gregory's thighs as he pushed the tip of his massive cock in. He was instantly wrapped in a tight heat and he pushed in deeper, using Gregory's thigh as leverage, filling him to the brim with angel cock. He groaned and whimpered as he pushed in further, actually panting from the effort of it.

'Oh! Oh god!' Greg gasped, his eyes snapping open. 'Oh shit! Fuck, you're huge!'

'I think we established that,' Mycroft grunted in discomfort as he pushed in deeper still. 'I have an annoyingly large cock.'

'But you feel fucking fantastic,' Greg groaned. He glanced down and watched Mycroft slowly disappear inside him, whimpering at the sight. 'I feel really full, but it feels amazing. God don't stop.'

Mycroft moaned in delight as he slid all the way in. He lifted Gregory's legs and heaved them over his shoulders so that his cock was angled just right. Then he began to move, hitting Gregory's prostate with the first thrust. Greg cried out as Mycroft began to move. He squeezed around him tight, sucking him in deep.

'Oh god, Myc,' he groaned. 'Faster. Fuck me!'

Mycroft grinned wickedly and began moving at a punishing pace, hitting Gregory's prostate almost every time. He was pounding into his lover so harshly that the bed was shaking beneath them.

'Myyyyyyyc!' Greg screamed as his body was assaulted with the most pleasurable sensations imaginable. He wasn't going to last, he knew that much. He felt like he was already on the brink and he'd barely been touched by Mycroft at all.

'Yes dear?' Mycroft groaned out, smirking as he kept up his punishing pace. His hands wandered over to Gregory's cock and he began moving them up and down his full length with expert ease.

'Oh! Oh god! Yes! I'm – I'm cumming!' Greg came with an almighty shout, spurting long and hard over them both. Mycroft watched his Gregory's face with fascination, his whole body tensing as he came long and hard too.

'Gregory!' he screamed and tilted his head back, panting for breath.

Greg lay back against the sheets, his body trembling as little aftershocks of pleasure shot through him. He whined and turned his face to the side, scrunching his eyes shut, his body continuing to shake. Mycroft pulled out and settled down on Gregory, resting his head on his lover's chest, the sound of his fast beating heart comforting.

'That was... wow,' Greg panted out. 'Holy shit.'

'I take that is a good sign?' Mycroft chuckled softly, tracing random patterns on Gregory's chest.

'More than good,' Greg smiled goofily. 'Fantastic. When can we do it again?'

'Whenever you like, providing I can find the time. My job is quite demanding.'

'Yeah. Same here. Though I may unexpectedly jump you sometime if it takes too long.' Greg smiled down at his angel and dragged him up for a kiss.

'There are a few things we need to discuss,' Mycroft moaned into the kiss.

'And what would that be?' Greg smirked, his hands trailing down Mycroft's bare back and squeezing his bum.

'Gregory,' Mycroft squeaked in surprise. 'I need you listening. This is important. Keep your hands from wandering for at least five minutes. Is that even possible?'

'Mmm. I dunno. You may need to restrain my hands,' Greg smirked, his hands wandering up Mycroft's chest and tweaking his nipples.

'Mmm, dear lord you're impossible,' Mycroft moaned. 'Please. I need to say this. Then you can have your way with me. I promise.'

'OK. OK,' Greg sighed, forcing his hands to flop down to the bed. 'What do you need to tell me?'

'Good. What I'm about to say I very important indeed. I need you to promise me something. I need you to promise to never allow me to bond or mate with you. Can you do that?'

'What does that even mean?' Greg asked, raising a quizzical eyebrow.

Mycroft groaned and ran a hand down his face. 'If I bond with you it's a permanent sexual bond, Gregory. And when I say permanent I mean permanent. Not that I want rid of you, but I just don't want you tied down to just me. And you most certainly don't want to end up pregnant carrying my child so for Heaven's sake don't allow me to mate with you!'

'What do I need to watch out for? Was this what happened to your brother and his human?'

'Mmm,' Mycroft hummed. 'Watch out for any signs of me glowing. If I start to glow, and start to get aggressive, you're in deep trouble.'

'How can I stop you? Your brother's human was unsuccessful.'

Mycroft took his Gregory's head into his hands and stroked his cheek gingerly with his thumb.

'You run, Gregory. You run as fast and as far as you can and you don't look back until it's safe.'

'How will I know when it's safe?' Greg asked softly, blinking rapidly. 'Won't you come after me?'

'Not if I can help it,' Mycroft promised softly. 'Besides, I doubt this will happen. I'm on pills. They'll suppress my desires and instincts. They might make me quite sleepy and grumpy though around the time of my heat. So I hope to get lots of hugs from my human.'

'I can do that.' Greg smiled softly, kissing Mycroft tenderly.

'Mmm. Are you going to have your way with me now?'

'Stay inside me and turn onto your back,' Greg purred, wriggling his hips. Mycroft pushed back into Gregory all the way and rolled over onto his back.

'That's my obedient angel,' Greg grinned. 'Now hands above your head. Grip the headboard tight. And no touching.'

'Oh god. What have I gotten myself in for?' Mycroft moaned as he followed Gregory's orders to a T.

'Hopefully an explosive orgasm,' Greg smirked, pushing back on Mycroft's cock until he was seated fully, moaning in ecstasy. Mycroft's eyes widened and he began moving frantically, gasping and moaning.

'Yes! Oh god yes!' Greg cried, bouncing up and down on his angel's massive cock. 'Oh god don't stop! Pound me!'

Mycroft picked up a punishing speed, thrusting up harshly, almost shaking Gregory off his cock before making him slide all the way down again.

'Oh my god you feel fucking amazing!' Greg cried, pulling himself almost completely off Myc's cock before sliding back down tantalising slow. 'Oh shit,' he moaned, shivering from the pleasure. 'Oh god, that's it right there. Oh! Oh god! Right there! Right there! Fuck I'm gonna cum!'

Mycroft was seeing spots in front of his eyes. He let out a shuddering groan as he came so hard that he was on the verge of passing out.

'Oh god! Oh fuck! Shit! Oh! Oh! Myyyyyc!' Greg screamed as he came, shooting thick spurts all over Mycroft's chest.

Mycroft let out a final groan. His body shook with aftershocks and his eyes slid shut. It was all too good. Greg landed on Mycroft with an obscene splat, their chests heaving together as they caught their breath.

'I don't – I don't know about – about you but – I could go for a – a long nap,' Greg said between breaths, his eyes already slipping shut.

'As long as you don't mind waking to a hard cock in your arse I don't mind,' Mycroft mumbled sleepily.

'You can fuck me again when we wake,' Greg yawned, settling against Mycroft's chest and snoring softly.

'I think I'll just have to do that,' Mycroft muttered, kissing Gregory as he fell fully asleep.

Greg slept peacefully for a couple hours, curled up on Mycroft's chest. His dreams were quite erotic, Mycroft fucking him with reckless abandon, glowing all sorts of colours. He knew he didn't want to be knocked up like the other human in the mansion, but the idea of children with Mycroft was rather intriguing. He woke to find Mycroft already thrusting into him slowly, a smug smirk on his face.

'Faster,' Greg moaned softly.

'Good morning, Gregory,' Mycroft purred softly, thrusting faster.

'Afternoon, actually,' Greg laughed softly, sitting up and rocking down on his angel's rock hard prick.

'Oh how time flies when you're having fun.'

'Yes. Great fun. Now move faster. I need you.'

Mycroft groaned, his movements picking up speed. Greg whimpered and moaned loudly, bouncing happily on Mycroft's cock. His own bounced just as happily between his legs, occasionally slapping against Mycroft's belly. Mycroft gingerly wrapped his long fingers around Gregory's cock and began pumping him teasingly.

'Oh god, Myc,' Greg whimpered. 'Fucking tease. God yes.'

'Yes, but you love me,' Mycroft chuckled, twisting his hand just so.

'Oh my god yes. Yes I do. Fuck!' He leant forward slightly, Mycroft's cock dragging along his prostate and making him shudder. 'Oh god I... I'm gonna cum.'

'Cum for me,' Mycroft whispered seductively. 'Show me how much you love me.'

Greg rocked down on his cock and slid his own through his fist, cumming in seconds in short but powerful spurts all over his angel's stomach, a strangled sort of cry ripping from his throat. Mycroft kissed Gregory, swallowing down his cries and making cries of his own as he came.

Greg pulled away from Mycroft so he could breath, his body still trembling as he came down from his high.

'I don't know about you, but I could use a shower.'

'Oh the things that come to mind when you say shower,' Mycroft purred, nibbling on Gregory's lip lightly.

'Down you dirty boy,' Greg smirked, nipping Mycroft's jaw. 'We've already gone at it three times. I'm exhausted. I need to clean up and make you some food. Your belly's been rumbling against me since we fell asleep.'

Mycroft blushed bright red and smoothed a hand over his stomach. 'I am rather hungry. Come on. Shower time then food.'

Greg smiled and slid off Mycroft's softening cock, shuddering slightly when it brushed against his sensitive prostate. He stood and strut off to the shower, making sure to wiggle his hips just for Mycroft's viewing pleasure.

'You can wash my wings if you like,' Mycroft smirked, trotting after his annoyingly attractive human.

'Oh. Get to touch those silky smooth feathers do I?' Greg smirked, turning on the water to the shower.

'You get to touch my everything, Gregory,' Mycroft uttered huskily.

'I am one lucky bastard,' Greg smiled, stepping into the shower and pulling Myc in with him.

'Mmm. You really are lucky. Never forget that little fact.' Mycroft grinned and kissed Gregory, pushing him against the shower tiles. Greg held Mycroft close, snogging him like there was no tomorrow. Mycroft's heart fluttered in his chest. God damn did he love this man. He knew the risks of loving a human yet Gregory seemed worth those risks.

'Once more,' Greg moaned, feeling Mycroft's hard cock along his leg. 'Once more and then we really need to clean up and be professional adults.'

'I'm surprised my libido is so high,' Mycroft gasped out loudly. 'Not bad for someone who's nearing the eight thousand mark, hmm?'

Greg froze, blinking rapidly at Mycroft.

'Eight... Eight thousand?' he gasped out, his voice cracking slightly.

Mycroft hummed and raised an eyebrow. 'Is there a problem with our age gap?'

'No. No. Just... I didn't think you were that old. How old is your vessel?'

'My vessel? Um... A few hundred years. I haven't been on Earth too long. I don't age. As you can see.'

'Wait. Your vessel is a few hundred years old?! Your vessel should be dead! I'm having sex with a dead guy?!'

'I'm not dead!' Mycroft scoffed. 'I simply moisturise. And why should my vessel be dead? It's a good vessel. It's extremely roomy in here.'

'So your vessel is still alive in there?! There's a human being still in there?!'

Mycroft facepalmed. 'Of course not! The vessel is this body. It was empty when I occupied it.'

'So you are in a dead person!' Greg exclaimed. His face fell. 'Oh my god I've been having sex with a dead guy. Oh god. Oh god. I'm not into necrophilia, Myc. This is... I need some air.' He rushed out of the shower, not caring that he was completely naked, and out to the back garden, throwing up violently once he reached the violets.

Mycroft slipped down in the shower, tears rolling down his cheeks. He really loved Gregory and he'd thought Gregory loved him back in the same way. But all his human saw was a body. He hadn't taken in account the fact that he was extremely alive inside the dam vessel. Did he only care for a soft body? Mycroft sobbed openly, clutching his head tightly in his hands.

Greg curled up in a ball and wrapped his arms over his head, trembling from the information he's just been given. He knew Mycroft was technically this big ball of energy, he'd sorta seen it in their connected dreams, but he never thought what that entailed until now. The Mycroft he loved wasn't part of that body. He was an orb of energy. He was living inside that body and guarding him while fucking him on the side. Or was it more the other way around these days? He groaned and flopped onto his side, shivering from the chill in the air. Well, it was fucking December, what did he expect.

Wait.

December?

Fuck.

He dashed back inside, shivering profusely now, and all he wanted was a hot shower to thaw out. But that's where Mycroft was. Unless he'd moved. He didn't want to risk checking but he was fucking freezing. Suddenly, through the cold and the shivering and the bouncing about for warmth, his conscience kicked in.

_What the fuck are you doing? Are you fucking crazy? This guy is the love of your life and you're flipping out over the fact that his vessel is allegedly dead? What the hell man? So what if the vessel was previously occupied? The man loves you more than anything in the world and you're just gonna throw that away? Go to him. Now._

So Greg did just that, though he paused when he saw a reddish hue coming from underneath the door. Hadn't Myc warned him about him turning colours? He knew he should have turned away, but his curiosity and concern won over. He eased the door open slowly, peeking inside.

It was too early. Fuck. What was going on. Why was his heat this early? Why hadn't his pills worked?

**RAPE SCENE AHEAD**

Mycroft's heart lurched in his chest as he saw the door open. Gregory had come back for him. He tried to scream to tell him to run but nothing came out. Instead his body lunged forward and pushed Gregory against the wall. He smothered his lover's lips, his hand pinning his arms down so that he couldn't move. He could barely stop himself. He had no control. He shoved his cock into his human and began pounding into him, the glowing red light shooting into his lover's stomach.

Greg screamed bloody murder, thrashing about wildly. No. No! He didn't want this. Not like this. Not now. Mycroft was completely out of it. He heard Gregory's screams but they barely registered to his ears. He pounded himself into his lover harder until he was cumming painfully and the last of the red light disappeared. Greg sobbed brokenly, his face turned away from Mycroft in shame. Mycroft was still holding him up, his cock still inside his bleeding arse. He wanted a long shower now. Alone. He just wanted to be alone. Mycroft slid out of Gregory and tripped backwards, passing out on the tiles as his head collided with them.

Greg slid down to the floor and drew his knees up against his chest, sobbing into them. He hurt everywhere, but mainly his arse. He was pretty sure it was bleeding but he didn't care. Myc had just gone into whatever the hell he'd warned him about and instead of running he'd gone to investigate. But hasn't he said he was on pills? Fucking pills didn't do shit! Now he was fucking pregnant with a baby like the other human had. What was his name? John? Yeah. John. Not that it mattered anyway. He just wanted rid of the baby. He wasn't ready to go through what John had gone through. He couldn't leave his job for an entire year to have a fucking angel baby.

He continued to sob even as the shower continued to run and the blood from his arse formed a small puddle beneath him, uncaring of either.

Mycroft awoke with a start, gasping and groaning as he held his throbbing head in his hands.

'Gregory,' he whispered weakly. 'I told you to run away from me. And yet even now you're still here, even after I hurt you.' He peered through his hands and felt his stomach to a forwards roll at the sight of his love sobbing. 'I didn't mean – I'm not even going to bother apologising. I do not deserve your forgiveness. Perhaps I should... get you a new angel.'

'No,' Greg said, his voice small and weak. 'I know what that means. So no. I don't want a new one. I want you. But I also want you to get me an appointment to be tested. I want to be sure I'm... you know.'

'I'll make one right away,' Mycroft said, his voice equally as quiet. 'And if you are... I shall book for a termination too.' He turned on his heel and walked hurriedly out of the bathroom, tears pricking his eyes.

Good. He didn't want the bloody thing. Not yet. He wasn't ready for a baby. His position as Detective Inspector just wouldn't allow it. Plus he was up for a promotion and he couldn't throw that away for an angel baby.

Mycroft quickly picked up his clothes and got back into his pristine suit. As he was tying the knot in his burgundy red tie he sighed softly. How could he have let this happen? How could he have hurt Gregory in such a way? He hated himself right now and he definitely hated the potential baby growing in his lover.

Greg sucked in a few deep breaths before attempting to stand, his legs shaky but stable. He stumbled into the shower and let the water run down his back, hissing when it reached his bleeding hole. He whimpered and fought the urge to move. He needed to get back to normal as fast as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End notes from TSA:
> 
> I'm so sorry everyone. I know some of you don't like reading about rape and abortion, but unfortunately that is going to be pretty prominent in this story for a while. Angels are scared of breeding outside their species, and if or when they do their children are at risk of being murdered by angels and humans alike. Blood and gore and murder will also feature heavily, so if any of this stuff could potentially trigger you I suggest you walk away and find a happy place to be. While we will post warnings and trigger warnings at the beginning of each chapter, we don't want to force you to stick around to read a story that could be hazardous to your mental health.
> 
> Next chapter will be up next week. See you all then.
> 
> ~TSA


	25. Family time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm updating now because today is my last relaxation day for a while. I'll soon be back at college working my butt off to get the grades I need for my university writing course. 
> 
> In this chapter: Sherlock starts to recover from his injuries, John and Sherlock have sexy times (with some mild BDSM), and Mycroft & Greg get the verdict about whether Greg's pregnant or not. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Till next time...
> 
> -MJCF

Mycroft sighed softly, glancing at the bathroom doorway. He wanted nothing more than to go in there and hug his Gregory better but it was unlikely that he'd accept such a gesture. So instead he decided it was high time he paid his nephew a little visit.

Little David was currently being taught how to read. John had him sat on his lap and was reading a book far above his skill level seeing as they didn't have any children's books in the manor. David hung onto every word, absorbing everything. He didn't care that the book was too advanced. He just loved it when his daddy read to him. Mycroft moved into the room quietly, smiling sadly. He longed to have his own children but he knew when that day did come, if it did that was, it wouldn't be with Gregory. He sighed and sat next to David and John gently, not wanting to startle the pair.

John glanced over to Mycroft and gave him a soft smile. David gave a rather enthusiastic 'Hi!' and waved his little hand in his face.

'Hello, David.' Mycroft's lips twitched sadly. 'Mind if I stay and listen for a little while?' he asked softly.

'Yeah! Daddy read t' us,' he grinned brightly. 'Again! Again!'

'Again? You want me to start again?'

'Yeah! Unca Myc needs t' hear.'

John laughed softly and shook his head. 'Ok, I'll start again.' He flipped to the beginning of the book, which was a Charles Dickens novel, and began again. Mycroft closed his eyes and allowed John's words to wash over him. It was almost enough to make him forget what had occurred between he and Gregory. He was soon nodding off, his head resting on his chest and his wings wrapping around himself very much like a sleeping bird.

'Da, Myc seepy,' David said quietly. John looked up and smiled softly.

'Yeah. He's sleepy. And it's time for your nap too.'

'But I no seepy.'

'You will be, bud. Come on.' He stood quietly, placed the book back on the shelf, and went to Sherlock's room to check on him. He was still asleep, but granted he was being sedated regularly. His feathers were coming back in and his injuries caused by the brutish angels were healing nicely. He pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and allowed David to do the same.

'Papa wake up soon?' David asked John as they left.

'I don't know. I hope so. But Papa needs to get better. His owies need to heal before he wakes up.'

'Papa has bad owies. Hurt.'

'Yes, exactly.' John placed David in his crib and kissed him on the forehead. 'Get some sleep my little angel.'

'Ok. Night Daddy.' David pressed a kiss to John's hand and wrapped his wings around him, falling asleep within minutes. John breathed a soft sigh of relief. He turned the baby monitor on and grabbed the receiver, taking it with him into Sherlock's room and turning it on. He sat by Sherlock's bedside and grasped his hand, holding him close as there was little else he could do.

Sherlock felt a warm hand grasp his. He moaned in his sleep and his eyes slowly flickered open. He winced at the bright light that hit him. He could just about make out a blurred figure.

'H-h-hello?'

'Hey, love,' John sniffled, smoothing Sherlock's hair out of his face. 'How're you feeling?'

'John,' Sherlock chuckled weakly. 'I feel like hell. What happened? Is David ok? Please say yes.'

'David's fine. He's napping right now. I read some Charles Dickens to him which he really enjoyed.'

'Good,' Sherlock smiled. 'Our boy's coming on in leaps and bounds.'

'He certainly is,' John grinned. 'He's trying to walk now. He can move about if he has help, but I imagine it will only take him a few days until he can move on his own.'

'Wish I could be walking with him,' Sherlock wheezed, wincing slightly. They really needed to up his pain medication.

'Soon, love. You're coming along really well.' He noticed Sherlock's wince and frowned. 'Are you in pain? Do you need more meds?'

'I'm in fucking agony.' Sherlock winced again as a shot of pain shot through his body. 'Yeah. Can you get me something stronger please? Whatever they have me on isn't really working for me.'

'Of course. Be right back.' He kissed Sherlock's forehead and went to find one of the on call nurses. He returned a few minutes later and the nurse smiled politely at him.

'Hello dear. I understand you need some stronger pain medication. Before I do that, I need to know how much pain you're in. So, on a scale of one to ten, ten being the most unbearable pain imaginable, how much pain are you in?'

'It feels like hell hounds are tearing me to shreds,' Sherlock groaned. 'I'm fairly sure that registers as a ten.'

'Hell hounds?' The nurse frowned. 'That's never good. Be right back.'

'Hell hounds, John,' Sherlock gasped out to the man still stood by his side. 'They're complete dickheads.'

'I would imagine,' John frowned, taking Sherlock's hand in his. 'They have to deal with the idiots and morons in Hell. I'd act like a dick too if I had to be around them for the rest of eternity.'

Sherlock chuckled but it soon turned into a coughing fit. His body flailed upwards and he let out a choked sob of agony.

'Shhh. It's ok. The nurse will be back soon with your pain medication.'

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the nurse was back with a bag of morphine.

'I think a morphine drip is in order for such intense pain,' she said softly, hooking the bag up and attaching it to Sherlock, the drip starting slowly. 'There. All set. Will that be all?'

'Yes,' Sherlock mumbled sleepily, the morphine already kicking in. 'That's all for now.'

'Alright. Call if you need anything else.' She disappeared and John moved over to Sherlock, kissing him softly.

'Feeling better already, huh?'

'Mmm. Morphine is a wonderful drug.' Sherlock grinned goofily at John. 'I feel as light as air.'

'Don't get hooked on it. It's the worst addiction to break. Just go to sleep. I'll bring David to visit you next time you wake.'

'It's not as if it'd kill me,' Sherlock hummed, settling down in his sheets. 'Tell... Dave... I... err... love him.'

'Of course. And I love you too. Now sleep.'

'Can ya sweep too?' Sherlock slurred. 'Wan nith dweems.'

'Sure. I could use some kip.' He crawled onto the bed and rested his head on Sherlock's chest, his steady heartbeat lulling him to sleep.

_'Wow,' Sherlock breathed. 'I almost forgot how peaceful it was here.'_

_John hummed and nuzzled Sherlock's jaw._

_'A lot better than listening to your brother having sex, that's for sure.'_

_'Whoa,' Sherlock blanched. 'That's something I really don't want to hear about. It's bad enough I have the one image in my head of him going at it. I didn't need that too. Ewww.'_

_'Greg's quite a screamer.' John shuddered. 'I'll never be able to get that sound out of my head.'_

_'Oh, for crying out loud, John! Enough of the images you're filling my mind with! I feel positively nauseous.'_

_'Shall I fuck them out of you?' John purred, a hand trailing down Sherlock's side, drawing small circles on his skin._

_'Errr,' Sherlock gasped sharply. 'I think you should, yes.'_

_John growled seductively and kissed Sherlock soundly, their bodies suddenly naked and writhing together as John pushed in. God he loved dreams. No need for prep._

_Sherlock gasped again and pushed down on John's cock. 'Fuck!'_

_'Oh god,' John moaned, thrusting hard. 'Oh I missed this. Oh! Oh shit! Oh you feel fucking fantastic!'_

_'You're not bad yourself, Doctor Watson,' Sherlock uttered huskily, moving with John's thrusts as best he could but it was hard. John really didn't have mercy when it came to taking charge of their sexual activities._ _John bound Sherlock's arms above his head and his legs were bound spread eagle, tied down nice and tight, opening him up for him._

_'Now this is what I like to see,' John purred, fucking Sherlock fast and hard. 'My beautiful angel laid open for me, taking my cock up his arse like a trooper. Oh you look so delicious like this, I could just eat you up. But that wouldn't be very fun because then I'd have no one to fuck. But oh, you're so very tight and warm. Oh. Oh god. Oh fuck that's good. Oh! Oh I'm gonna cum!'_

_Sherlock was caught in a world of pleasurable bliss. Something about being so vulnerable and open to John was exciting, no, exhilarating even. Sherlock loved it. His body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and heat was starting to pool into his stomach._

_'Me too!' he cried out, his whole body shuddering as that warmth turned into a fiery heat and he began to cum all over John. John came with an almighty scream, pulsing into Sherlock in almost painful spurts. He collapsed on top of him, releasing his bonds, and lay panting on his angel's chest, a goofy smile on his face._

_'I think that was the first time we've had sex since the birth.'_

_'Yeah,' Sherlock breathed. 'And it was bloody marvellous.'_

_'It certainly was.' John smiled, sliding up to give Sherlock a kiss. 'As soon as you're better you and I are gonna have loud marathon sex to get back at your brother.'_

_'Oooh. I can't wait. Silly bastard won't know what's hit him.' Sherlock grinned, reaching in for more kisses._

_'We'll have to get David out of earshot,' John said between kisses. 'Kid gets smarter every day. Pretty soon he'll know what all the loud noises the adults are making mean.'_

_'Mmm,' Sherlock hummed against John's lips. 'It's so hard to keep the angel children innocent these days, especially ones like our David. He's simply brilliant.'_

_'Brilliant like his father.' John grinned. 'And he's growing up so fast. Just over three months old and he already looks like a ten month old.'_

_'His growth should slow soon,' Sherlock mused. 'After all, he's still human, well, part human anyway.'_

_'I would imagine he'd grow quicker than normal humans but slower than an angel,' John mused. 'Will he stop ageing after a certain point due to his angel DNA?'_

_'It's likely he'll stop when he hits the age of twenty, appearance wise anyway. Not age.'_

_'So he'll always be young and handsome,' John grinned. 'I bet he'll look just like you when he grows up.'_

_'What? Like me? In which case he'll probably look like he's a Hollywood model,' Sherlock smirked smugly._

_'The girls will be swarming for him. And maybe some gents too.' John kissed Sherlock soundly, sucking his tongue into his mouth, wriggling his hips teasingly._

_'I don't know about that. I've only had one conquest in my life,' Sherlock laughed softly. His laughter soon turned into a low moan. 'I've been meaning to ask you, are we keeping this up? Us in a physical relationship? When you return home that is. I want to prepare myself if we're not.'_

_'I see no reason why we shouldn't,' John said softly. 'Just take those heat suppressant pills. I don't exactly want to carry another fledgling any time soon.'_

_Sherlock raised an eyebrow curiously. 'Any time soon? Then you'd consider carrying another in the future?'_

_'Maybe, if the time's right.' He shrugged and rested against Sherlock's chest. 'I'm quite smitten with David already. I'm just sad that when I go back home I won't be able to be an active part of his life.'_

_'You'll still visit him though... right?' Sherlock gently rubbed patterns on his lover's back._

_'When I can,' John hummed, relaxing completely against his lover. 'Promise.'_

_'I'll hold you to that.' Sherlock kissed John lovingly. John hummed into the kiss and tangled his fingers in Sherlock's hair, pulling them closer together._

_'Now do you believe me when I say I love you?' Sherlock whispered softly against John's lips._

_'I always believed you,' John whispered back. 'I've never doubted your love since we made up after those lonely three months in Italy. I'm just still not certain what I feel for you is love. I've nothing to compare it too.'_

_'So I suppose you'll experiment then.' Sherlock frowned. 'Like with that Mary girl.'_

_'I don't know. Maybe.' John shrugged. 'Though I could always ask my mum what it feels like to be in love. Or the Internet. The Internet is a very wise yet crazy place. There should be answers there.'_

_'Mmm,' Sherlock hummed. 'Tell me what you find.'_

_'Of course,' John hummed, kissing Sherlock softly._

_'I love you so much,' Sherlock whispered softly._

_'The feeling is quite mutual,' John hummed. 'Maybe one day I can say I love you as much as you love me. But for now, just know that I love you like I love my mum, and I care about you a lot.'_

_'How far would you go for me? Would you die for me?' For an intense moment the only sound that could be heard was the sound of both their breathing. John stared down at Sherlock, blinking rapidly._

_'Where, um–' he swallowed thickly. 'Where did that come from?'_

_'It doesn't matter.' Sherlock sighed softly and rolled over. I don't know why I asked that.'_

_'I... Sherlock, I'm only eighteen. Fuck. I was pregnant on my birthday. Christ. Not important. Sorry. But I'm only a kid, Sherlock. Why do you want me to die?'_

_'I don't want you to die, John. I was just curious,' Sherlock mumbled, his wings flexing out in agitation. 'I just wondered how far you'd go for me.'_

_'Well, I'm sorry to report not that far. Not this early in our... courtship? Relationship? I don't know what to call it, but I'm not prepared to die for you, Sherlock. I'm sorry.'_

_'I'd die for you. I wouldn't even blink. I'd happily die for you. And that's not because I'm your angel. I would because you're my friend, lover, but most importantly you are like family to me. A brother, John. And I would go through Hell and back for you.'_

_'That's... nice, Sherlock. Thank you for being so devoted. I only wish I could return the favour.' John sighed softly. 'I'm sorry I can't be everything you want me to be. Everything you need me to be. But maybe, with time, I can. Who knows? Angels fall every day. Perhaps, just this once, I can fall for my angel.'_

_'How poetic, John. But I'd really rather you didn't mention my falling kin.'_

_'Sorry. Shall I just shut up?'_

_'No,' Sherlock whispered softly. 'Take me from behind.'_

_'Um... Ok. Turn over,' he ordered gently._

_Sherlock easily complied with John's order. 'Go soft on me. I want you to make love to me, not to fuck the senses out of me.'_

_'Ok. Can I still bind your hands?' John moved behind him slowly, pressing soft kisses to the small of his back._

_Sherlock moaned and shivered as John's warm lips connected with his bare skin. 'Go ahead.'_

_Sherlock's hands were bound to the headboard, sticking out between the bars, grasping at air. John pressed more kisses down the curve of Sherlock's spine and down his buttocks, nipping at the firm globes of flesh._

_'Worship me, Master. Worship my body. Oh, Master. Make love to me, caress my skin, don't stop.'_

_John moaned and poked his tongue in between Sherlock's cheeks, licking him from the bollocks up until he reached his already open entrance. He'd never done anything like this before, so he was mainly going on instinct. He poked the tip of his tongue inside, tasting traces of his own semen from earlier, Sherlock shuddering beneath him._

_'Jesus!' Sherlock moaned, pushing back against the tongue. John pushed his tongue further in in reply._

_Sherlock's gasps and moans grew in volume. 'Take me! Take me now!'_

_John didn't need to be told twice. He leaned back, slicked his prick, and eased inside slowly, feeling Sherlock's tight heat quiver around him._

_Sherlock grunted, his eyes flickering shut. 'Make love to me, John. Make my skin crawl with fire and my toes curl. Show your angel your love.'_

_John did just that. He moved in and out of Sherlock at a steady pace, pressing tender kisses to his angel's neck and upper back, an arm securely wrapped around his waist._

_'Oh, John,' Sherlock whispered, leaning into his lover's kisses. 'I love you. I love you so much.'_

_'I know you do,' John whispered huskily, angling his hips so he could find Sherlock's sweet spot._

_'Oh!' Sherlock's mouth fell open and a loud moan rolled from his lips. 'Yes! That's the spot!'_

_John growled and hit that spot relentlessly, moving harder but not necessarily faster. He was making little moans of pleasure with each thrust, his cock twitching inside his angel. But he wanted Sherlock to cum first, so he wrapped a hand around the erection bobbing between his legs and stroked in time to his thrusts._

_'Fuck! John! Oh, if only you knew how you make me feel! I'm gonna–' Sherlock arched arched upwards, moaning and crying out in ecstasy as he came._

_'That's it Sherlock, yes,' John moaned, continuing to pump Sherlock's cock until it was twitching from overstimulation. He finally let go and thrust into Sherlock a few more times before he too came, burying himself deep inside, his cock pulsing. Tears pricked in Sherlock's eyes as John continued to thrust into his arse. It felt too good._

_'John! Oh God!'_

_John collapsed against Sherlock with a loud grunt, chest heaving. He was still hard. What the hell? He didn't think he had it in him for another love making session, not after that powerful orgasm. He groaned and pulled out, released Sherlock's hands, and lay down beside him, his hard cock nestled against his belly._

_'Go for it,' Sherlock whispered sleepily. 'Make love to me again. And again. And again. Keep going. I never want you to stop.'_

_'Sit on it.' John smirked, grasping the base of his cock and holding it up. Sherlock grinned and moved onto John's cock._

_'Bloody hell!'_

_John moaned and thrust up, Sherlock still so incredibly tight despite being so stretched._

_'Yes!' Sherlock worked himself off of John's cock before sliding back down. 'Stay hard, John. Stay hard for as long as you can. You feel so good.'_

_'This is a dream, Sherlock,' John grunted, grasping his angel's hips to steady him. 'I can stay hard forever if I so choose.'_

_'Then stay that way,' Sherlock purred, wriggling back up again._

_'Only if you move faster,' John groaned, gripping Sherlock's hips tighter._

_'Nope,' Sherlock chuckled, highly amused by the frustration on John's face._

_'Fine. Then I'll do it.' John grinned wickedly and began pounding into Sherlock, his hands gripping Sherlock's hips so tight he knew there'd be bruises when he let go._

_'Oh god! John – fuck! – oh bloody hell!' Sherlock was overcome with so much pleasure that he could barely see straight._

_John growled and thrust harder, Sherlock bouncing up and slamming back down on his cock every time. Fuck it was so good. He wasn't gonna last, but then again, maybe he could. It was a dream after all. So he kept himself hard but didn't allow himself to cum, fucking Sherlock solely for him to cum over and over and over again._

_Sherlock moaned, his head thrust back, his eyes closed in bliss. He kept on cumming and getting hard again and he didn't know where one orgasm started and another ended. John changed their positions so Sherlock was beneath him, spread open for him. He continued to fuck him, Sherlock cumming and cumming and cumming, painting their bodies with his cum._

_'John–' Sherlock gasped out, his body thrashing about on the mattress. 'S-s-slow down. I can't take much more.'_

_'Let me cum first. Then we can take a break.' He pounded into Sherlock harder, his angel's legs around his shoulders, spreading him nice and wide._

_'I – fuck – cum for me! Cum for me!'_

_'Fuck – Sherlock!' John cried as he plummeted over the edge, cumming hard in thick spurts._

_'Yes! Yes! Oh yes!' Sherlock panted, his whole body heaving with exhaustion and adrenaline._

_John screamed as he finished, pulling out and collapsing beside Sherlock, his cock finally softening. He was sweating buckets, and he was panting so hard it was actually difficult to breathe, but it was so totally worth it. He'd never felt so sated in his life._

_Sherlock groaned out something incoherent and rolled on top of John, hugging him tightly and burying his head into his chest._

_'I... wuvv ya so much,' he slurred, sounding all the world like he was drunk. And in a way he was, drunk off John's love that is._

_'Mmm. Wuvv you too,' John hummed. 'We should wake up soon and David can visit you. He asks about you frequently. Keeps asking if Papa is gonna wake up soon.'_

_'He misses me.' Sherlock smirked. 'I miss him too.'_

_'Of course he misses you. He spent the first two and a half months of his life with you. I've barely had him for one.'_

_'Don't remind me. I felt so guilty about spending time with him whilst you couldn't.'_

_'I was healing, Sherlock. It's fine. Plus I carried him for ten months. I spent more than enough time with him. Don't feel bad. It's fine.'_

_'I can't help feeling bad,' Sherlock sniffled. 'Especially after how you reacted when you awoke. Like I'd betrayed you or something.'_

_'I just thought you were keeping him from me. Like my nightmare. I'd just woken up, I was delusional, I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry.'_

_'I was so scared. I thought you hated me. I thought you wanted nothing to do with me.'_

_John held Sherlock's face in his hands tenderly, his thumbs stroking his cheeks. 'I will never not want you. You're my angel and my baby daddy. I'm stuck with you either way. And I'm glad it's you I'm stuck with.'_

_'I'm glad to be stuck with you too,' Sherlock purred softly. 'You complete me.'_

_'You were given to me for a reason.' John grinned. 'You complete me too.'_

_'I almost rebelled, you know. I didn't want to be anyone's angel,' Sherlock laughed softly._

_'I sensed that when you appeared.' John smiled softly. 'You were very agitated and you told me you hated humanity.'_

_'I didn't want to be stuck on Earth with an idiotic human. No offense.'_

_'None taken. Most of the population is made up of idiots.'_

_'Including you.' Sherlock smirked. 'You're sleeping with an angel. You naughty man. How do you sleep at night?'_

_'Quite comfortably. And usually naked,' John smirked. 'Wrapped up in my angel's wings. They're very warm and soft.'_

_'They're growing back even softer than before,' Sherlock mused. 'I'll soon be able to wrap you in them at night.'_

_'And then you'll be able to teach David to fly,' John grinned. 'When should he be able to do that?'_

_'Whenever he's ready,' Sherlock hummed. 'I don't want to push him into anything.'_

_'I know that. I just meant when will be grow into his wings? Normally for angels. We can guess from there seeing as it'll probably take longer due to his human DNA.'_

_'Oh.' Sherlock hummed in thought. 'In that case I suppose when he's about a couple of years old he'll start to grow into them.'_

_'Wow. He's gonna be big by two. He'll look like he's five or six probably. Jesus.'_

_'He'll be bloody gorgeous,' Sherlock grinned against John's chest._

_'Just like his papa,' John grinned right back._

_'I was going to say just like his daddy,' Sherlock laughed._

_'Mmm. How about we agree to disagree and say just like his parents?'_

_'We are, to be fair, very sexy parents,' Sherlock chuckled._

_'Mmm. We certainly are.' John grinned, kissing Sherlock softly. 'I need to wake up. I think I can hear David calling for me. Want to wake up and talk to him for a bit?'_

_'Yeah, sure. You might have to shake me awake though. I still feel exhausted,' Sherlock yawned sleepily._

_'Ok. Be right back.'_

John blinked as he woke, the room brighter than he remembered. He groaned and sat up, rubbing his forehead as a slight headache had started while he was asleep. Probably all that dream fucking. He stretched and began shaking Sherlock to wake him.

Sherlock groaned and shifted slightly. 'Wha? No. Leave me alone Croft. I dun wanna go t' heaven.'

'It's not your brother, it's John. I want you to wake up so you can see David.'

'Huh? Oh. Give me a minute. You go get him. I'll try my best to rouse.'

'Ok.' John kissed Sherlock's cheek and went back to David's room, cooing at him.

'Hey there, little man,' he grinned, picking David up and kissing his cheek. 'How was your nap?'

'Good! Had fun bee dweam. I was a bee!'

'You were? That's awesome! Bees are so cool. So, Papa is awake. You wanna go see him and tell him about your bee dream?'

'Yeah!' David squirmed excitedly. 'But I did a poopy in my nappy, Daddy.'

'You did? Well let me just clean you up before we see Papa.'

'Cwean, cwean, cwean,' David sang, wriggling a bit as John cleaned him up, putting a fresh nappy on him.

'Ok, all set. Now let's go see Papa,' John smiled.

'Papa!' David cried, trying to wriggle free of John's arms, but John held on tight, carrying David to Sherlock's room.

'Special delivery,' he said as he entered the room. He smiled at Sherlock and placed David on the bed.

'Papa!' David cried again, crawling up and cuddling his Papa's arm.

'Hello.' Sherlock's voice broke and tears pricked at his eyes as he held David tightly. 'How's my baby boy?'

'Good.' David smiled brightly. 'Papa seepy for long time. Papa wake now. Papa read story?'

'Papa has been very sleepy.' Sherlock ran a hand through David's hair. 'What story shall I tell you?'

'Bee story! Oh! I had a dweam that I was a buzzy widdle bee. I fwew ewerywhere! I wanna fwy, Papa.'

'One day, son,' Sherlock laughed, kissing David on the head. 'Now, shall we begin?'

'Bee story!' David smiled brightly, cuddling against Sherlock's chest. John lay beside Sherlock on the bed and smiled warmly. He wanted to hear the story too. Sherlock smiled and settled down beside his two boys, telling a tale of a brave little bee.

David fell asleep as Sherlock weaved a tale of a little bee who flew farther than any bee in his hive, finding the most delicious nectar ever. John kissed him softly after David started snoring softly.

'Go to sleep, love,' he whispered. 'We'll meet you there. And you can enter David's dream. I bet he's a little bee again. Go fly with him.'

Sherlock hummed and drifted off to David's dream. He joined him as a bumble bee too and they buzzed and flew together in a bright blue sky.

John gently slid off the bed and left the room. He wasn't all that tired after his nap, so he headed to the kitchen to make himself something to eat. Greg was there, looking quite shaken up. John didn't press him and just made himself a sandwich, devouring it quickly so he could return to Sherlock and David. When he was done, he grabbed the Charles Dickens novel he was reading earlier and took it with him, reading it while he sat by Sherlock's bedside.

Mycroft entered the kitchen cautiously. He coughed awkwardly. 'Our appointment is in half an hour. We need to leave now, Gregory.'

Greg jumped and froze, clutching the counter tight.

'G-good,' he said quietly, swallowing loudly. 'I assume you'll just zap us there or whatever it is that happens when you disappear in a burst of light?'

'Yes, of course. That is, if you don't mind holding my hand.' Mycroft smiled weakly, holding out his hand to Gregory. Greg let go of the counter and reached blindly for Mycroft's hand, not wanting to look at him. Mycroft sighed softly, clutching Gregory's hand tightly and transported them to the hospital. They were immediately called back and Greg found himself lied out on an examination bed. He remained silent and stoney as the doctor checked him over, fearing that he would end up like Sherlock's human, John. Though they appeared happy, he imagined carrying the baby had been hellish for the poor boy. He really didn't want to do the same. At least... not yet. Maybe someday, but not today or any day soon.

'What's the verdict, doctor?' Mycroft asked quietly.

'I'm not finding anything, so the verdict is not pregnant. Congrats,' he said to Greg who instantly relaxed. He turned to Mycroft. 'You went into a false heat, probably triggered by stress or strong emotional trauma. Keep taking those suppressants and you shouldn't have any problems.'

'Right. Ok. Thank you. Let's go, Gregory.' He reached out a hand to Gregory, refusing to look into his eyes. Greg took Mycroft's hand and they were transported back to the sitting room. He immediately let go of Mycroft's hand and went to the bedroom, changing his clothes for work. He'd never been more grateful for the distraction of boring paperwork in all his life.

'Gregory,' Mycroft called softly from outside the door. 'May I come in?'

'Um... Sure,' Greg mumbled quietly.

Mycroft shuffled into the room. 'I'm sorry, Gregory,' he whispered softly.

'Me too,' Greg whispered, buttoning his shirt. 'I shouldn't have come back to check on you. I should have run as soon as I saw the light under the door.'

'Yes, you should have run. I didn't have any control over my actions. I couldn't... I couldn't stop.'

'I realise that.' Greg frowned. 'My arse still hurts.'

'I can fix that.' Mycroft edged forward slightly. 'That is, if you let me.'

'Sure. Go ahead. I'd hate to be in pain while sitting down for hours doing paperwork.'

'The thing is... I'll need to... touch your arse. Are you comfortable for me to do that?'

'Oh. Um... Yeah.' Greg pulled his trousers down and turned around. Mycroft took a deep breath and reached out to Gregory, lightly caressing his arse. Greg hummed softly as he felt his arse sooth, smiling in relief.

'Thanks,' he said, pulling his trousers back up and fastening them.

'It isn't a problem. I'll be off then. I'm going for a fly. I won't be back till late. Don't wait up for me.'

'Ok. And please remember to eat something. And no binging.'

Mycroft rolled his eyes. 'Of course not, dear. I wouldn't dream of it.'

'Then have a nice flight,' Greg said softly, tying his laces in neat bows.

'I believe I will. Though I'm supposed to be meeting the PM later,' he sighed. 'I may just die from boredom.'

'Oh the miseries of being part of the Angel High Council.' Greg smirked. He dared to place a small kiss to Mycroft's cheek. 'Go. Enjoy your fly. I'll be here when you come back.'

Mycroft smiled softly. 'I'll see you tonight, Gregory. I hope we can move on from what happened. But until then I'll sleep in another room.'

'No. You can sleep with me. I like cuddling up to you.'

'Don't say that you like to cuddle me,' Mycroft huffed. 'You cuddle things like teddy bears. It makes me feel fat.'

'I like cuddling,' Greg said, pouting. 'And you aren't fat. A little pudgy maybe, but you're better than you were. Please can I cuddle you tonight? I want to cuddle you. To show us both that we're gonna be ok.'

Mycroft sighed and rolled his eyes. 'Fine. You've won me over.'

'Good.' Greg grinned and kissed his cheek again. 'Now go fly. I've gotta go to work. Love you.'

'I love you too, Gregory.' Mycroft smiled and disappeared in a flash of light to the field he loved to fly above. Greg smiled to himself and went to work, his smile permanently etched on his face even as he filled out boring paperwork for hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End notes from TSA:
> 
> Finally! A happy chapter to break up all the angst. I also went back and made some minor edits, but nothing was added or taken out. Just grammar stuff I happened to notice while reading this.
> 
> Also, I'm so sorry about how horrible last chapter's ending was. I still feel awful about that.
> 
> I also wanted to bring to light that some anons have been hating on this fic because apparently MJCF and I "glorify" rape in this fic and that we "justify" it in some way and that John only discovered he was bisexual because of his being raped. MJCF and I have responded to these claims on at least two different occasions, and I just wanted to post this here because we don't like the thought that we've gone and upset someone or possibly even triggered someone. That's the last thing we want to do.
> 
> We do deal with very serious issues in our fics, and they do go to some pretty dark places. We make sure that our dark fics are labelled well, and we always put in warnings about what each chapter contains. We know that rape is not an issue that should be treated lightly. We would never justify rape on any account. MJCF personally knows rape victims in real life, both friends and family. We know how serious the issue is.
> 
> There are reasons we wrote this so that Sherlock seemed manipulative. It has a lot to do with how screwed up the angel society is. Abortion is illegal for angels, children are viewed as being more important than the angels carrying them, and rape isn't seen as a big deal by them. We wrote it that way to show how some people in real life society view rape. "Oh. It's not a big deal. It's justifiable. She was asking for it." Because believe me, there are people out there that find rape justifiable, and it's actually sickening. As the fic progresses there are more mentions of rape, and how society reacts to different relationships, and the way society deals with the issue.
> 
> Sherlock, at the time, isn't in control. That doesn't make it any less or more excusable. He does manipulate John into keeping the baby. Does he show remorse? Yes. Does he realise what he's done is wrong? Yes.
> 
>  
> 
> _'Why are you apologising? I raped you! I should be the one saying sorry!'_
> 
>  
> 
> In further chapters, it's clear that John does not forgive Sherlock straight away. It is not the act of rape that forced him into being bisexual. He was experimenting with his sexuality before, and after the event of the incident.
> 
> I don't really know what to say other than that you have my apologies for upsetting you. It isn't our intention to do such a thing. We just write about very delicate issues, and you have to also take in account how utterly fucked up the angel society is, in reflection to our society.
> 
> We will continue to label our work and warn people. But if this story isn't your cup of tea, don't read it and then bitch at us about it when all our chapters are clearly labeled with warnings and possible triggers and when we label our rape scenes so you can skip over them if you need to. So please check the tags, warnings, and possible triggers at the beginning of every chapter to know what subject matter will be featured and if any of that may cause you to be triggered, please, please do not read it for the sake of your mental health.
> 
> TSA + MJCF
> 
> (most of the response was taken from a reply on our shared blog (sherlocksbuttbelongstous) on tumblr, post/87292765813)


	26. Oh my, Mystrade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Happy Friday! I hope you're having a good day! This will be the last update for a while. Normal updating of this fic will start back up in a few weeks.
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: Binge eating, eating disorders, and some very smutty Mystrade times.
> 
> (TSA says: read the end notes to see why MJCF tells lies! We will continue updating!)

Mycroft flew over his favourite field till dark. His meeting with the PM of the High Council had been rescheduled, meaning all he'd had to do all day was think. Thinking for an angel like himself was incredibly dangerous, especially after the trauma that had happened with his Gregory. So the moment he got home he found himself breaking his promise not to binge. He ate and ate like he was an angel child once more. He only stopped when a sharp pain hit his stomach. He slid to the ground and crawled into a small, shaking ball. His stomach was so large that he looked like he was with child, but all he was carrying was a food baby. 

Greg returned home late, having decided to complete all his paperwork at once. His brain was fried and his eyes were tired, but it was worth it. He went into the kitchen for a beer and nearly tripped over Mycroft who was writhing around on the floor, clutching his stomach.

'Oh, Myc,' Greg sighed, kneeling beside him, petting his wings soothingly.

'Get away from me!' Mycroft screamed. 'I'm a monster! Please, just leave!'

'You aren't a monster, Mycroft,' Greg said softly, continuing to pet him. 'It was a false heat. I'm fine. But now I know to stay away when you glow red.'

'You don't love me,' Mycroft sobbed. 'You love this body and this body is dead! And when I say this body I mean the cock attached to it!'

'I don't love you for your body, Mycroft. Though it  _is_  pleasing to look at. I love you for your mind. You're brilliant, remarkable, amazing. All those and more. I  _do_  love you, Mycroft. I  _do_ .'

'No,' Mycroft sobbed. 'You can't possibly love me. You should just leave. It'd be easier for us both.'

'You're an idiot if you think that.' Greg frowned. 'I love you. Really, I do. And if marriages between humans and angels were legal I'd wed you right now to prove my love.'

'Really?' Mycroft sobbed out. 'You'd marry an angel like me?'

'What do you mean like you? Of course I would! You're brilliant and handsome and kinky.' Greg waggled his eyebrows. 'Anyone would be lucky to have you. And I'm so lucky and happy that I got you as my angel.'

Mycroft sniffled. 'Right now I just feel fat, stupid, and fucked up.'

'You are neither of those things,' Greg said softly, pressing a tender kiss to Mycroft's forehead. 'Now let's get you to the loo before you spew all over the kitchen. Then we can go to bed and I can cuddle a pillow since you probably won't want me to cuddle you due to your stomach hurting.'

Mycroft groaned in agreement. 'I really went too far this time. My stomach is in excruciating pain.'

'Ok. Try not to throw up all over me. Here we go.' Greg picked Mycroft up as gently as he could manage, taking him to the loo. Mycroft dropped to his knees as soon as they reached the toilet and began spewing out the tons of food he'd consumed.

'Oh hun,' Greg frowned, rubbing Myc's back between his wings. 'You really ate a lot.'

'I bloody ate the whole kitchen out,' Mycroft groaned out, continuing to throw up. 

'Oh. Wow. We'll have to get some more food then. Can't have your nephew going hungry. Or anyone else in the house.'

'I'm such a selfish bastard,' Mycroft sobbed. 'So, so selfish.'

'You had a trying and exhausting day, Myc,' Greg said softly. 'Everyone is selfish when they feel like shit. Now let's get into bed. But rinse your mouth out first so you don't taste vomit.'

'Can you fetch me a glass of water?' Mycroft asked, his voice cracking.

'Sure. Can you make it to bed? Or do you want my help with that as well?'

'Carry me,' Mycroft whispered. 'And then you can cuddle me.'

'Ok,' Greg smiled softly. He stood and got a glass from the kitchen, filled it with water and returned to the bathroom, passing it to Myc.

'Thank you.' Mycroft sipped at the water gingerly before passing it back to Gregory.

'Bed now?' Greg asked, taking a few sips from the water himself.

'Bed,' Mycroft groaned out in agreement.

'Ok. Come on.' Greg picked Mycroft up and carried him to bed. He took his clothes off and draped them over Myc's chair. He stripped out of his own clothes and climbed into bed, cuddling up to Mycroft and draping the covers over them.

'Love you,' he whispered, kissing the tip of Mycroft's nose.

'I love you too,' Mycroft breathed softly.

'Go to sleep, love. You'll feel better in the morning.'

'Night, dear,' Mycroft mumbled softly. Greg placed another kiss to Myc's forehead, mumbling, 'Love you,' against it.

'Can I pop into your dream?' he asked, snuggling up to his love.

'Yeah,' Greg mumbled, already almost asleep. Mycroft closed his eyes and drifted off into Gregory's dream. 

_ 'Hi,' he mumbled sheepishly when he reached there.  _

_ 'Get over here ya big lummox,' Greg smiled, pulling Mycroft into a hug. _

_ 'Lummox?' Mycroft scoffed fondly. 'I haven't heard that one before.' _

_'Mmm. It's new. Thought I'd give it a try. Now will you stop being an idiot and hug me back?'_

_Mycroft sighed in exasperation and hugged his Gregory tightly. 'Better?'_

_'Much,' Greg grinned. 'Feeling better now?'_

_'A little,' Mycroft sighed. 'Though my tummy still hurts.'_

_'I can fix that,' Greg said softly, splaying his palm over Mycroft's stomach and rubbing it gently. Mycroft sighed softly and placed a kiss on Gregory's neck._

_'Thank you, Gregory.'_

_'You're quite welcome,' Greg smiled, tilting his head up for a proper kiss. Mycroft captured Gregory's lips in a soft kiss. He pulled away in surprise as he felt something hard by his thigh._

_'Oh.'_

_'I'm not apologising for that,' Greg smirked, his hands travelling down Mycroft's torso to cup his own hardening cock. Except it wasn't hard. Not even a little bit. Greg frowned and looked up at Myc, hurt and confused._

_'I can't, Gregory,' Mycroft whispered, his voice shaking. 'I hurt you and it's going to take me a while to get over that.'_

_'No, it's fine,' Greg said, pulling away, his own erection deflating. 'I understand. You need time to get things together. I should too. Don't want to rush it.'_

_'I am so sorry, Gregory,' Mycroft sniffled. 'Can we just cuddle?'_

_'Of course. Cuddling is fine. It's great,' Greg smiled softly. He eased them both down onto a bed and cuddled up to Myc, his head resting on his chest._

_'I love you, Gregory,' Mycroft hummed softly. 'And, just for the record, I'd marry you too.'_

_'Good,' Greg smiled. 'Maybe you aren't such an idiot after all.'_

_'Shhh you,' Mycroft grumbled. 'I know I'm an utter idiot.'_

_'I love you anyway,' Greg smirked. 'And I'm already working on forgiving you for what happened.'_

_'How is it possible for you to even think of forgiving me?' Mycroft sniffled. 'I really, really hurt you. I turned into a monster in front  of your very eyes. I raped you.'_

_'Sherlock did the same thing and his human forgave him,' Greg pointed out._

_'Damn hormones probably clouded his mind,' Mycroft scoffed. 'If I were you I'd hate me.'_

_'Then perhaps **I'm**  the idiot.' Greg frowned. He let go of Mycroft and turned over._

_'Did I – I'll just leave.' Mycroft sniffled loudly and left the dream world before Gregory could protest. Greg sobbed as soon as he felt Mycroft leave, curling in on himself and holding his knees to his chest. What the hell was going on with his life these days?_

He sobbed until he felt sick and woke up, running to the bathroom to vomit into the loo.

'Oh, Gregory,' Mycroft sighed softly. 'I'm so sorry. I did this... And I'm so sorry.'

Greg sobbed some more at Mycroft's words, his tears falling off his chin into the toilet water in big droplets.

'Gregory?' Mycroft slowly knelt beside the sobbing man. 'Speak to me. What's going on in that funny little mind of yours? Hmm?'

'Funny? Is that all I am to you?' Greg choked out, staring at his vomit in the loo. 'Am I really just a silly little human to you? I must be. I mean, how could you possibly love me? Look at you. You're a fucking angel, and one of the most important ones out there. I'm just a puny, fragile, stupid little human. I'm not important in the slightest. How on this great and massive Earth could you  _possibly_  love stupid, old me?'

'I meant it in an endearing way, dear,' Mycroft hushed softly. 'And how could I not love you? You're charming. You have a great sense of humor. You're handsome. I don't think I've ever seen such sexy hair before. You're great to cuddle up to. You listen to my hard day when I know you've had an equally trying day. You love me for what and who I am. And your soul? Your soul is so pure. Gregory, I love you. I love you so much.'

Greg stopped and listened to Mycroft's soft words, hanging on each one. When he finally stopped talking he slowly turned to look at his angel, fresh tears falling down his cheeks.

'Why couldn't you have said that earlier?' he choked out, a small smile on his lips. 'I love you too, you big old teddy bear. Now can we please cuddle and sleep without arguing? I really need to rest.'

'I'm not a teddy bear,' Mycroft pouted. 'But very well. Come to bed with me, dear. We'll cuddle all night long.'

Greg smiled softly and flushed the loo, rinsing his mouth out before following Myc to bed and cuddling him securely.

'I've changed my mind,' Mycroft said softly. 'If you want to make love in your dream, then we can.'

'I'm not in the mood anymore,' Greg yawned. 'Let's just cuddle. We don't even have to talk. I just want to be with you.'

'That sounds good to me. Now shh. Go to sleep. I'll be right behind.'

Greg hummed and fell into a deep sleep, Mycroft joining him soon after. 

_ He kissed him softly first before cuddling up to him and linking their hands together over Myc's chest. Mycroft gently began to hum a random tune, his hand moving to run through Gregory's perfect, silver hair. Greg hummed softly and cuddled closer, listening to Mycroft's tune and relaxing totally and completely as he played with his hair. _

_ 'Your hair is too perfect.' Mycroft leaned in and suckled lightly on Gregory's ear. Greg moaned softly and nuzzled against Myc's chest, a leg wrapping around one of his and pulling them closer. _

_ 'Take me,' Mycroft begged as he rut against Gregory's leg. Greg was snogging Myc and pushing inside him even before he'd completed his sentence. He thrust at a leisurely pace before gradually picking up speed. _

_'Fuck!' Mycroft gasped out in shock. 'Oh hell! Gregory!'_

_'There you are,' Greg smirked as he found Mycroft's prostate, stimulating it as often as possible. 'And there you are,' he said to Myc, kissing him heatedly. 'Glad to have you back.'_

_'You teasing bastard!' Mycroft cried out, rocking backward on Gregory's cock as best he could, his own cock laying on the soft curve of his belly._

_'Now that wasn't very nice,' Greg smirked devilishly. 'I should gag you for that. Though I like it very much when you cry my name when you cum.' He thrust harder and grasped his angel's cock with both hands, pumping to match the pace of his thrusts._

_'I'll show you not very nice!' Mycroft snarled, lunging forward to nip and suck at Greg's neck, moaning louder and louder as he was brought closer to the edge._

_'Oh my god, yes!' Greg cried. 'Mark me! Show everyone that I'm yours! Oh god! Fuck! Gonna– Myyyyyyyc!' Greg screamed as he all but exploded inside Mycroft, his cock pulsing and throbbing painfully._

_'Gre-gor-eeeeee!' Mycroft threw his head back and screamed as his lover continued to cum inside of him, his own cock spraying thick blobs of cum all over Gregory. Greg slipped the head of Mycroft's cock into his mouth as he continued to cum, swallowing down the last spurts of his seed._

_'Oh dear lord! Yes! That's it Gregory! Milk me to the last drop!' Mycroft cried out, his entire body shaking from the orgasm still passing through his system. Greg swallowed as much of Mycroft as he could, sucking him hard as he felt his orgasm beginning to subside._

_'Oh, Gregory,' Mycroft hummed, his hand moving through his Gregory's hair. 'Thank you.'_

_Greg released Mycroft with a loud pop and licked his lips free of stray seed, grinning down at Mycroft._

_'No, thank you for letting us do that,' he purred, kissing Mycroft soundly._

_'It was a pleasure,' Mycroft hummed, nipping at Gregory's lower lip. 'I've missed you.'_

_'Missed you too,' Greg hummed. 'Glad to see you come to your senses. That was fantastic, I just have to say.'_

_'It's impossible to resist you for long, Gregory. You're gorgeous.'_

_'So are you,' Greg smiled, kissing Mycroft softly, their tongues dancing together._

_'No, I'm really not,' Mycroft mumbled bashfully._

_'Yes you are,' Greg said softly. 'You're the most exquisite creature I've ever seen. You're beautiful, exotic, and god damn those wings. They're as silver as my hair. You're gorgeous, Myc.'_

_'You really think so?' Mycroft asked, biting his lips. 'I don't feel particularly gorgeous.'_

_'Shall I rectify that?' Greg purred, kissing him again._

_'Yes. please do,' Mycroft purred back. Greg growled and straddled Mycroft, kissing him heatedly before kissing down his whole body._

_'Yes! Oh Gregory! Show me how gorgeous I am!'_

_'That's what I'm doing you berk,' Greg smirked. 'Now lay back and enjoy it.' He resumed kissing and nipping his way down Mycroft's body, his tongue tracing his collarbone._

_Mycroft closed his eyes and allowed Gregory to bath him in hot pleasure. He moaned in appreciation and fisted the sheets so tightly his knuckles turned white. Greg moved all along and down Mycroft's body, dipping his tongue into his navel when he reached his belly._

_Mycroft whimpered. 'Yes! A little lower! Suck me off!'_

_'Gladly,' Greg purred. He suckled the head of Mycroft's cock before sucking him down slowly, his hand wanking the length he couldn't swallow. Mycroft groaned, his hips rolling of their own accord, a list of profanities falling from his lips. Greg sucked harder and swallowed Mycroft deeper, hollowing out his cheeks and bobbing his head._

_'I am sooo close!' Mycroft cried out, his voice vibrating with anticipation for his release. Greg snuck his free hand down and pulled on Mycroft's sac, pulling it taut before releasing it with a slap._

_'You dirty man!' Mycroft roared, cumming so hard he could barely think or see. Greg swallowed everything Mycroft gave, sliding his cock further down his throat so it would simply slide down into his stomach._

_Mycroft hummed and pulled out of Gregory's mouth. 'Gregory, you shall be the death of me.'_

_'I certainly hope not,' Greg pouted, crawling back up Mycroft's body to cuddle him again. 'I would be very sad indeed.'_

_'No.' Mycroft shook his head. 'If I die don't be sad. Be happy. Move on with life.'_

_'You seriously want me to be happy about your death?' Greg frowned. 'I'd be devastated. Granted, the pain would lessen and I'd move on in life, but I'd still miss you terribly.'_

_'You won't remember me.' Mycroft swallowed thickly. 'You literally won't be able to remember me.'_

_'What, like my memories get wiped of your existence?'_

_Mycroft whimpered and buried his head in Gregory's shoulder. 'Yes. Bingo. You won't remember me at all.'_

_'That's horribly inconvenient,' Greg sniffled. 'I don't want to forget you.'_

_'I'm sorry, Gregory.' Mycroft kissed his lover on the top of his head. 'I don't make the rules.'_

_'Can't you change them?' Greg sniffled. 'You're part of the High Council. Can't you guys do that? Change the rules? Our government does it all the time.'_

_'I'm not powerful enough, dear,' Mycroft choked out, hugging him tightly._

_'Then make an appeal or something,' Greg said brokenly. 'I don't want to forget you should you go before me.'_

_'Gregory, you won't know any different,' Mycroft said sadly._

_'I don't care! I want to remember you! It's not fair!'_

_'I know!' Mycroft sobbed out. 'It's not fair! It fucking hurts that you won't be able to remember me!'_

_'Why the hell are we always crying lately?' Greg sniffled. 'Seriously. I was never so emotional before. What the hell has happened to me?'_

_'Perhaps it's because we have more to lose now.' Mycroft pulled Gregory tighter to him, kissing his neck softly._

_'Perhaps, yes. But I was never this emotional with my ex-wife. She always wanted me to be more emotional, more open. I guess it just takes the right person to make you open up and make yourself vulnerable.'_

_'You're my emotional weakness. I used to be so strong but now you make my knees go weak, and my heart beat far too fast, and I've never felt so scared to lose something. I love you.'_

_'Same here,' Greg sniffled. 'And I love you so much. You... This is gonna sound so cheesy, but you complete me, Mycroft.'_

_'That doesn't sound cheesy at all. Do you know why? You complete me too.'_

_'Good. That's good,' Greg grinned dopily, cuddling closer. 'We're a complete set, aren't we? A set of nutters, that is.'_

_'Oh yes,' Mycroft chuckled. 'We're completely barking mad.'_

_'Mmm. Completely, utterly, barking mad,' Greg hummed. 'But I don't care. I love you, and that's all that matters.'_

_'Marry me,' Mycroft whispered. 'We'll go to one of those illegal churches for angels and humans. Just, please marry me.'_

_'I didn't realise there were such things. But... Yes. Yes, I'll marry you. Though ask me properly when we wake up, ok?'_

_'Of course. I'll buy you a ring and I'll propose on one knee.' Mycroft grinned and kissed Gregory._

_'I can't wait,' Greg smiled into the kiss._

_'Mmm. You gorgeous, gorgeous man.'_

_Greg moaned softly before hearing a beeping coming in through the dream._

_'Alarm. Time for work.'_

_'No,' Mycroft whined. 'Don't you dare wake up.'_

_'Myc, I have to,' Greg groaned, already fighting the impulse to wake up and hit snooze. 'I've got people to arrest and keep off the streets. And you know how sexy I am when I slap handcuffs on someone.'_

_'You're even sexier when you're fucking me. Fuck me right now. Don't wake up.'_

_'Myc, I can't. Please. Fuck.'_ He groaned as he woke up and hit snooze, rolling back over to cuddle Mycroft.

'I'm sorry,' he whispered. 'I'm really sorry. But I can fuck you now before I have to leave. Make it a quickie.'

Mycroft huffed and rolled over. 'Don't bother, Gregory. I didn't want a quickie.'

'What's the matter? First you want to marry me and now you don't want to have sex? Are you ok? Did I do something wrong?'

'No. It's fine. I just don't want a quick fuck,' Mycroft sniffled. 'I want you to take your time with me.'

'Ok. Well, how about when I get home from work I'll treat you special? Dinner, some music, candles, the works. Then we can make sweet love all night if you want. Tomorrow's my day off as well, so perhaps we can go out somewhere. Make a day of it. Get married in secret.'

Mycroft nodded into his pillow and sighed softly. 'I'd love that, Gregory. It's been awhile since we did anything romantic.'

'Great. I'll pick up some stuff for dinner on the way home. And you may want to go out and purchase some food as well seeing as you said you ate out the whole kitchen. How are you feeling by the way?'

'Not very good. Tummy still hurts like hell,' Mycroft whined, clutching his belly.

'Mmm. Take some antacids and drink some more water. Then rest for a bit more. I'm no doctor, but it's helped me when I had stomach aches.'

'Thank you, Gregory,' Mycroft mumbled sleepily.

'I love you,' Greg whispered, kissing Mycroft softly. Mycroft hummed and fell back to sleep.

Greg rolled his eyes and sighed. He got dressed quietly and ate a small breakfast before dashing out. He made a list of supplies to buy while there was a lull in the workload. Dinner, music, candles, lube. He was going to cook Mycroft's favourite for dinner, the soft music playing in the background. Perhaps they'd dance for a little while before they made it to the bedroom, where the candles would be set up. Then they'd make love for a good long while and sleep in each other's arms. He smiled to himself. It sounded like a wonderfully romantic date.

Mycroft awoke later that afternoon with a groan. He took something for his stomach and smiled softly to himself as he rememberd what he'd asked Gregory. Right, time to go ring shopping.

**...::-::... **

Greg stopped off at Tesco's on the way home, picking up dinner supplies, a CD of romantic classical music, and a tube of lube. He searched around for unscented candles and found none, so he settled on some that said they smelled of cherry blossoms. He paid for everything and made his way home, setting everything up and changing into better clothes. Mycroft was out, probably angel duties or something, so Greg had plenty of time to light the candles, the room smelling fresh and sweet instantly. He hummed and popped the CD into the stereo system, a piece by Bach filling the house. He then started on dinner, humming along to the music at some points, a very contented smile on his face.

Mycroft had picked out the perfect wedding ring for his Gregory. It was a simple silver band but it had the words 'forever yours' inscribed on the inside. He hurried home, smiling at the smell of food cooking and the sound of Gregory humming softly as he walked through the door.

'Honey, I'm home!'

'Welcome home, love,' Greg smiled, pecking Mycroft on the lips. 'Dinner should be ready in a few, so you can clean up a bit before we eat.'

'I'll be right back,' Mycroft smirked. He hurried into his bedroom and put on a dashing new suit that he'd been saving for Gregory. He knew that for his Gregory being dressed up in a three piece suit was just as pornographic as when he was naked. He slid the ring inside his jacket pocket and sprayed on some cologne that he knew Gregory couldn't resist. Smiling at himself in the mirror he returned to Gregory. 

'Mmm. It certainly smells good, dear.'

Greg paused slightly and sniffed the air. He turned to Mycroft, his eyes wide, pupils blown. He sniffed again and swallowed loudly.

'You're wearing that cologne.'

'Oh yes, dear,' Mycroft smirked, a devious glint in his eyes. 'And you know I only wear it on special occasions.'

'And the... the suit? That for a special occasion too?'

'Oh, this old thing?' Mycroft raised an eyebrow. 'It's nothing really. Just a little something I imported from Italy.'

Greg whimpered. Damn Mycroft for knowing his weaknesses. Italian suits and that damn cologne.

'I'm gonna burn dinner if you don't get out of here,' he said in a quiet voice. 'So go ahead and get your glass of wine and go to the sitting room. I'll come get you when it's ready.'

Mycroft chuckled softly in fond amusement. He really did affect his human, didn't he? He grabbed a bottle of his most expensive wine, winked at Gregory, and smacked his arse before exiting the room.

'Eep!' Greg squealed, his cheeks flushed a bright red now. He watched Mycroft leave, staring pointedly at his voluptuous arse. He shook his head and returned to dinner, making sure the fish didn't overcook.

'Gregory, I'm splayed out on the sofa. If you don't get your arse in here now I'll start the strip tease without you!'

Greg groaned loudly. 'Two more minutes on the fish! Then you're gonna eat it and then I'm gonna fucking ravish you! Don't you dare strip without me!'

'But it's so hot!' Mycroft groaned, stretching his body further along the sofa. 'I don't think I can help myself. Oh god.'

'Oh god? What do you mean, "oh god?"' Greg was sweating now he was so turned on. He was achingly hard in his trousers to the point it hurt.

'I think my cock just broke through my pants! Hence the oh god.' Mycroft dove a hand down his trousers and groaned. Fuck it. Greg took the fish off the oven and turned the burner off. He stalked out to the sitting room, his hands clenched into fists at his side, and glared at Mycroft.

'You do not fight fucking fair,' he growled, removing his hand from his pants and straddling him.

'Do I not?' Mycroft laughed softly. 'I do apologise for that, dear.'

'Just shut up and fuck me,' Greg growled, smothering Mycroft's lips with his own.

'There's actually something I need to present you. However, you will have to get off of my lap.'

'But you burst through your pants,' Greg moaned. 'Oh god, I can feel it. Oh shit.'

'Please, Gregory. This is important. I need to do this whilst I still have the guts to do so.'

'Ugh. Ok.' Greg slid off Mycroft's lap and sat back on the couch, pouting heavily.

'I think I know how to make that pout disappear.' Mycroft smirked, sliding down to the floor and getting on one knee in front of Gregory. Greg's heart stopped. Oh my god. It was actually happening. Mycroft cleared his throat and smiled.

'I've known you for many years, Gregory. And since I met you my life has been turned upside down, in a good way. You make me so happy and what's more you bring out my humanity. For that I am forever grateful. I would very much like to spend the rest of my life with you. So, will you do me the honor of marrying me?' He fished out the ring and presented it to his lover. Greg smiled wide, his eyes bright with tears.

'Yes. Of course I'll marry you.'

Mycroft let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding and slid the ring onto Gregory's finger. Greg pulled Mycroft up for a passionate kiss, cradling his head in his hands. Mycroft clambered fully onto Gregory's lap and began to rock against him as he returned the passionate kiss. Greg whimpered and moaned as Mycroft rocked above him. His hands slid down his back and gripped his arse tight, pulling them closer together.

'May I take you, Gregory?' Mycroft pleaded, desperation in his voice.

'Yes. Oh god yes. Take me right here,' Greg whimpered.

Mycroft smirked. 'Oh. I will. All in good time though. Didn't I say I was going to give you a strip tease?'

'Oh yes. Let me see that,' Greg grinned. Mycroft grinned and slowly, almost painfully slowly, he began to strip from his suit. Greg hummed and sat back, watching Mycroft strip for him. Oh yes. This was what papa Greg liked to watch. This was most certainly his division. Mycroft stripped from his shirt, waistcoat, jacket and tie but he took far longer with his trousers, teasing Gregory, wiggling his arse.

'Oh yes. Tease me you fucker,' Greg grinned, setting his lips hungrily.

'I'm so big, Gregory. I think I'm reaching a new record!' Mycroft grabbed Gregory's hands and pushed them against his clothed cock.

'Oh god. Yes. You feel fucking huge,' Greg moaned, wrapping his hands around Mycroft's cock and massaging the throbbing flesh.

'Think I can fit in your tight little arse?' Mycroft's hips jerked upwards and he groaned.

'There's only one way to find out,' Greg smirked, squeezing Mycroft's cock tight.

'Get me out of these damn trousers!' Greg removed the trousers from his angel swiftly, being mindful not to tear them in any way. He'd never forgive himself if he ruined an Italian suit. Mycroft's cock spring free and smacked Greg on the cheek, leaving dollops of precum behind.

'Jesus. You were right when you said you ripped through your pants,' Greg breathed out in awe.

'Mmm. Now for your clothes,' Mycroft smirked, ripping Greg out of his clothes.

'Hey! Easy! These are the nicest clothes I've got!'

'They're just clothes. I'll buy you some more. Now suck.' Mycroft placed his fingers on Gregory's lips.

'I have lube,' he said, pulling it out from between the cushions. 'I came prepared.'

'Oh, you dirty man,' Mycroft grinned, taking the lube and squeezing it on his fingers thickly.

Greg smirked and turned over, presenting his arse for Mycroft. Mycroft pressed one finger into Gregory's entrance gingerly.

'Oh,' Greg moaned softly, humming. 'Don't stop.'

'I don't plan to stop,' Mycroft moaned in reply, adding more fingers and stretching Gregory.

'Oh! Oh god!' Greg moaned, pushing back on the fingers.

'Saying the lord's name in vain? Tut Tut. You naughty man.' Mycroft moved his fingers at a more punishing pace.

'Fuck! Shit! Oh my god! Take me already!'

Mycroft lubed his cock up and pushed himself inside Gregory. Greg gasped and moaned, pushing back against Mycroft's cock, wanting him deeper. His muscles twitched as Mycroft pushed inside, deeper and deeper, almost like his cock went on forever. Finally he stopped, seated fully inside, and Greg let out a loud whine as his muscles spasmed from the intense feeling of fullness. Mycroft didn't allow Gregory any time to get used to the size of his cock. He began to move in and out at a punishing pace, hitting his prostate over and over again.

'Oh my gawd!' Greg screamed, clutching onto the couch for dear life. Mycroft stilled his movements and leaned down to kiss and nip at Gregory's neck.

'Oh god, Myc, please! Don't tease me like this! Please!' Greg whined, wriggling on Mycroft's cock for some beloved friction.

'I'm sorry, love. It's just too much fun.' He bit down hard on Gregory's neck and sucked a bright red mark into it.

'Myc, please!' Greg begged. 'While I appreciate you marking me, please just fuck me! Please!'

'Your wish is my command.' Mycroft picked up a frantic pace once more.

'Oh god yes! Fuck me!' Greg screamed, biting the couch to stifle his cries of pleasure.

'Scream! Scream my name!'

'Mycroft! Mycroft bloody Holmes!' Greg screamed, cumming suddenly, hard and thick against the back of the couch. Mycroft pulled back before slamming himself into Gregory, cumming for what seemed like eternity, his huge cock pulsing and throbbing almost painfully.

Greg whimpered as Mycroft emptied himself into him, his body quivering from the force of his orgasm and the aftershocks Mycroft was causing. He rested his head against the back of the couch and whined as Mycroft continued to cum. Angels sure came for a bloody long time. 

As Mycroft continued to rock in and out of Gregory he emitted lust and arousal into the air. The effect led to both Gregory and himself becoming rock hard again.

'Oh you naughty bastard,' Greg moaned, arching his head back so it rested on Mycroft's shoulder. 'You dirty, kinky, bastard.'

'Kinky would be gagging you with that beautiful Italian tie,' Mycroft purred, slowly moving forwards to prod Gregory's prostate.

'Fuck yes! Do it!' Greg cried, his legs trembling from the intense pleasure. Mycroft grabbed his silk tie and stuffed it in Gregory's mouth, thrusting harshly into him.

Greg moaned and groaned as Mycroft fucked him mercilessly. He shifted slightly so his knee was propped on the arm of the couch, opening himself up further for Mycroft, tears of pleasure falling down his cheeks as they moved together. Their bodies moved together in one fluid motion and the grunts and moans were beginning to raise to an almost ear shattering volume.

'Grrregory!' Mycroft screamed at the top of his lungs as he came for a second time. Greg gave a muffled cry of Mycroft's name as he too came, spraying more semen on the couch cushions. Mycroft pulled out of Gregory, collapsing on him with a loud splat followed by a groan. Greg removed the tie and gasped for breath, panting harshly.

'Jesus Christ, that was good,' he groaned.

'I did a magnificent job,' Mycroft purred. 'You were like putty in my hands.'

'God yes you did,' Greg panted, smiling dopily. 'Not sure I'll be able to sit down to eat now. I worked up a big appetite.'

'Wanna stay like this for a bit,' Mycroft hummed happily, kissing the tip of Gregory's ear.

'Mmm. Ok. Feels nice,' Greg hummed.

Mycroft trailed his fingertips down Gregory's back. 'I can't believe we're getting married. It seems too good to be true.'

'Don't jinx it, love,' Greg hummed. 'First thing tomorrow. Or... right now. I just need a tux.'

'First thing tomorrow. We'll get you a tux and we'll run away and get married,' Mycroft giggled. 'Sorry, I just didn't quite imagine something like this happening. It's something that happens in movies, not in real life.'

'God, I know, right?' Greg smirked. 'You've turned me into a lovestruck teen. God I love you.'

'I love you too. God, words can't describe how much I truly love you.'

'Same here,' Greg grinned. 'Want to put some clothes on and eat now? I'm starving.'

'Can't the clothes be optional?'

'I suppose, but I'd rather not eat hot food naked.'

'Then I'll be the naked party,' Mycroft chuckled.

'Well, I may as well join you,' Greg laughed softly. 'I would hate to be the only one not naked.'

'Mmm. That would be an awful shame indeed.'

'Alright. Come on, Mr Holmes. Let's eat.'

'In what context shall I take that?' Mycroft grinned cheekily. 

'Well, first we'll eat dinner,' Greg smirked. 'Then I'll eat your cock to the best of my ability.'

'Mmm. It's a rather large portion, I must admit,' Mycroft laughed softly, winking at Gregory.

'At least three helpings,' Greg smirked.

'Come on. The sooner we eat the sooner you can suck my cock.'

'Very true. Now get off me ya lump.'

'Oops,' Mycroft chuckled, removing himself from Gregory. Greg stood up and stretched his legs, still quite shaky from his powerful orgasms.

'Ok. Let's go cook,' he smiled.

'I'll just watch I think.' Mycroft slapped Gregory's arse, humming. 'Mmm. Beautiful.'

'You get to sit back and enjoy the show,' Greg smirked, striding away, making sure to swing his hips.

'Ooh, yes please.' Mycroft plonked himself down on the sofa, watching Gregory, his cock starting to grow hard once more.

'Sit in your chair at the table you idiot,' Greg sighed, rolling his eyes. He grabbed the fish and put it back on the stove, turning the heat back on the warm them up.

'That isn't a suitable place to sit if I want to continue doing this.' Mycroft was currently wanking his cock, moaning and groaning.

'But you get a much better view from up here,' Greg pouted, wriggling his arse until his cheeks bounced. Mycroft groaned, giving in. He stood and shuffled over to the kitchen chair.

'That's my boy,' Greg smirked, turning back to the stove to cook, making sure to wiggle his hips for Mycroft's amusement.

'You bloody sexualy frustrate me, do your know that?'

'Yep,' Greg smirked, putting extra emphasis on the 'p.' He continued cooking for a few moments more before deeming the food ready. He opened a bottle of wine and gave Mycroft a glass as well as a plate of food. He grabbed his own and sat across from Mycroft, his foot travelling to Mycroft's leg and rubbing against it as he ate. Mycroft sipped slowly at his wine, gazing at Gregory gently. He ignored his food. He really didn't feel hungry after last night anyway.

'Please eat, My,' Greg frowned. 'It's your favourite. And you shouldn't drink on an empty stomach. Please eat something.'

'I'm really not that hungry,' Mycroft sighed softly, hanging his head in shame. 'I'm sorry.'

'Not even a little?' Greg frowned in concern. 'Can you at least eat a few bites? There really isn't all that much anyway. Please? For me?'

'Fine, you win,' Mycroft sighed, stabbing his fork into his food and eating a few tiny bites.

'Thank you,' Greg smiled softly, eating more of his own food.

'Anything for you, Gregory,' Mycroft smiled around another mouthful of food. Greg blushed and drank some of his wine before eating another forkful of food.

'Are you embarrassed?' Mycroft smirked. 

'No, just... you would do anything for me,' Greg said before taking another drink. 'That's very, um... Thanks.'

'It's true.' Mycroft reached out a hand to Gregory. 'I'd do anything, risk everything, for you.'

'And I would too, to the best of my human abilities,' Greg smiled softly, taking Mycroft's offered hand and lacing their fingers together.

'That's good enough for me.' Mycroft squeezed Gregory's hand lightly.

'I'm afraid it's all I can give, but it's all I have,' Greg smiled softly. 'Now please eat as much as you can and then we can adjourn to the bedroom.'

'Hmm. I like your thinking, Gregory,' Mycroft hummed, turning back to his plate of food.

'I'm rather fond of it as well,' he smirked, popping a bite of fish into his mouth. 'I'm gonna suck you dry.'

Mycroft snorted loudly. 'I'd like to see you try.'

'Challenge accepted, my dear,' Greg smirked. He pushed his plate away and stood up, holding a hand out for Myc. 'I need you. Now.'

Mycroft knocked everything off of the table. 'Have me on the table. Now. I'm all yours.'

Greg growled and lunged forward, attacking Mycroft's lips and pushing him back onto the table, sucking on his tongue before pulling away to gasp for air.

'Now let me see that aching cock,' he purred, licking his lips. 'Let me take care of it. And you.'

'Yes!' Mycroft cried out, gripping the edge of the table tightly. 'Take care of my aching problem! I need you!'

Greg moaned and sucked softly at the base of Mycroft's cock, feeling it twitch and throb beneath his lips. He licked it thoroughly from base to tip, coating it in his saliva before suckling on the leaking head, swirling his tongue around it, lapping up the beads of precum as they formed. Mycroft closed his eyes and allowed his husband-to-be to drag him into a place where his heart was pounding erratically, his body was shaking and dripping in sweat, and wave after wave of pleasure was crashing over him.

Greg swallowed as much of Mycroft down as he could, using one hand to wank the length he couldn't and the other was massaging and pulling at his sac. It didn't take Mycroft long. He was soon cumming down his Gregory's throat in thick strips. Greg managed to push the head of Mycroft's cock down into his throat so he merely came right down it, though some semen still managed to make it into his mouth and collect under his tongue.

Mycroft panted heavily and moaned obscenely. 'Dear lord, Gregory.'

Greg finally pulled off when he felt Mycroft's cock soften, gasping for air and swallowing the last of his angel's cum. He grinned cheekily down at his very debauched lover and laughed smugly.

'I rather think I'm getting better at sucking off your massive cock,' he smirked.

'Are you?' Mycroft smirked broadly. 'I do believe you are.'

'Lots of practice,' Greg smirked. 'Now let's adjourn to the bedroom. I need to fuck you now.'

'Carry me,' Mycroft moaned loudly. 'Carry me to the bedroom and fuck me.'

'Gladly,' Greg growled, scooping Mycroft up and first carrying him to the sitting room to grab the lube and then to their bedroom, depositing him on their bed and spreading him open, kissing along his inner thighs.

Mycroft moaned and spread his legs as wide as they could go. 'Take me! Take me now!'

'Let me lube you up first,' Greg purred, coating three of his fingers and pushing them inside Mycroft one by one. Mycroft let out an obscene moan, his head tilting back further against the mattress and his legs spreading apart.

'That's my dirty angel,' Greg crooned, brushing Mycroft's prostate with the pads of his fingers. 'Open yourself up for me. Say my name.'

'Gregory, please,' Mycroft begged, his voice cracking. Greg pulled out his fingers and lubed his cock quickly before pushing inside Mycroft quickly, seating himself balls deep in his arse and groaning loudly at the tight feeling.

'Oh Myc, you never cease to amaze me,' he moaned, rocking in and out slightly to let Mycroft adjust to his girth. 'Always so tight and warm. Fuck. My cock really loves your arse.'

'My arse really loves your cock,' Mycroft retorted, clamping his arse cheeks around Gregory's cock and groaning.

'Mmm. Cheeky,' Greg smirked, pulling out before slamming back in, both men gasping sharply. 'I'm gonna fuck you in earnest now. You ready?'

'Erm... I suppose so.'

'What's with the hesitation? You ok?' Greg asked in concern. 'Would you rather I make love to you versus fuck you? Because I can definitely do that instead.'

Mycroft nodded slowly. 'If that's quite aright.'

'Anything for my angel,' Greg said softly, kissing Mycroft gently as he moved in and out at a leisurely pace.

'I love you,' Mycroft whispered, gently rocking back against his lover's cock.

'I love you too,' Greg hummed, moving a little faster but not too hard.

Mycroft trailed kisses down Gregory's neck. 'I really love you. You're beautiful.'

'Thank you, but I prefer the terms "sexy" and "gorgeous" to be applied to me. You're fucking exquisite.'

'Oh shush you,' Mycroft laughed softly. 'I am hardly exquisite.'

'Yes you are.' Greg silenced Mycroft with a kiss, moving a tad harder so he could get some more friction. Mycroft wrapped his arms around Gregory's neck, pulling himself closer and deepening the kiss into something fierce. Greg moaned loudly and opened his mouth so Mycroft's tongue could delve inside. He began thrusting harder, searching for his lover's prostate. Mycroft whined softly against his lovers lips but that whine soon turned into a low moan as Gregory found his prostate. Greg stimulated the bundle of nerves as often as possible, his hips picking up the pace as he felt his release coiling low in his belly, waiting to erupt.

'Gregory!' Mycroft felt his own release creep up on him. He began cumming all over his lover, screaming his name over and over. Greg held on as long as he could but he soon exploded into Mycroft, cumming almost painfully, screaming his angel's name. Mycroft fell back against the mattress, swearing under his breath as his body continued to twitch with pleasure. Greg collapsed on top of him, gasping for breath like a fish out of water. He was tired but he was completely sated. Now they just needed to sleep and in the morning they'd elope. Illegally even. Good god, what had his life become?

'Goodnight, Gregory,' Mycroft hummed softly. 'By this time tomorrow we shall be married.'

'I prefer to think of it like this: in a few short hours we shall marry in secret and live happily ever after.' He paused and flushed before continuing. 'And perhaps, when we're ready, we can have children of our own.'

Mycroft had just been closing his eyes but at the sound of Gregory's words his eyes snapped open. He stared at Gregory in bewilderment. 'You actually want to carry my fledglings?'

'Maybe.' Greg swallowed under the force of Mycroft's gaze. 'Or we could adopt. Though I wouldn't mind having a – fledgling? – of our own, like what John and Sherlock have.'

'They'd be completely adorable if we did have ones of our own. But there's no pressure. I wasn't planning on having children anyway.'

'I never wanted kids when I was first married, but as soon as you become a father your entire world changes. I love my daughter dearly, and I can't imagine life without her. You may change your mind eventually. But yes, no pressure. I'm not ready for carrying a child just yet. The thought scares me something chronic.'

'I can imagine. From what I've heard the process isn't particularly nice. But the reward is. So maybe one day, hmm?'

'Down the road a ways,' Greg nodded. He pulled out and settled beside Mycroft, cuddling up against him. 'But let's sleep so we look well rested. I don't want bags under my eyes at my wedding.'

Mycroft giggled softly. 'You're just too precious.'

'I'm forty five, My. I think I'm a bit too old to be precious.'

'Nonsense,' Mycroft cooed. 'You're my precious little baba.'

'Oh good lord,' Greg laughed. 'Call me whatever you want in the privacy of our own bedroom. Just don't call me embarrassing names like that in public.'

'But you are my little precious baba,' Mycroft laughed softly.

'Sure I am,' Greg laughed softly. 'Now go to sleep.'

'Night, my love,' Mycroft sighed softly, falling asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End Notes from TSA:
> 
> Shhh. Don't listen to Rosie I'll be uploading a chapter on Saturday while I'm at work. Both on here as well as on FFNet. Maybe even the following Saturday as I have that as a scheduled break day.
> 
> You might be slightly confused right now. Why am I scheduling next Saturday as a designated break day?
> 
> BECAUSE MJCF IS COMING TO AMERICA TO VISIT ME ON THE 11TH ALL THE WAY THROUGH TO THE 25TH! WE'RE FINALLY GOING TO MEET IN PERSON AND SHE'S SPENDING TWO WEEKS WITH ME! *SCREAMS*
> 
> Yes! We're finally going to meet face-to-face. We've been RPing for almost a year-and-a-half now, and we've been penpals for pretty much a year. And now we're going to meet face-to-face and she's going to be staying for two weeks. I have a lot of stuff planned, from dying our hair to going to a theme park to swimming in one of Michigan's Great Lakes. It's going to be a ton of fun. We'll roast marshmallows and make s'mores too. She's never had a proper s'more, and I plan on fixing that. AND she'll be eating her first ever Poptart! Such fun!
> 
> We'll see you later this week and if you want to check out our adventures, find us on tumblr at sherlocksbuttbelongstous. We'll be posting updates there of her trip and funny selfies too.
> 
> Until next time!
> 
> ~TSA


	27. The wedding of Mycroft  Holmes and Gregory Lestrade  AKA the time where John and Sherlock left each other in a horrific way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning everyone. I hope you slept better than I did. I had to wake up at 6:45 a.m. to get ready for work at 9 a.m. It was far too cold last night and I didn't sleep very well. I think I'll be taking a nap when I get home this afternoon. I'm exhausted.
> 
> Anyway, MJCF is at home with my family today. Let's hope she stays sane. But I'm sure she'll find something to do. There's movies to watch, Sherlock to fawn over, and fanfiction to write. We'll be going out for dinner when I get out of work, but I know I'm going to be dead on my feet. I'm going to need to sleep when I get home.
> 
> So, this chapter is pretty violent toward the end. John is very dark and OOC in this, but it fits his character given he isn't the John we know and love on the show. He's younger and he's confused and he thinks his life is turning to shit. So bear that in mind while you read this.
> 
> MJCF: Mycroft and Sherlock  
> Me: Greg and John
> 
> Trigger Warnings for this chapter: attempted suicide, murder, death (but no one stays dead, kind of like in Supernatural)  
> Warnings for this chapter: John is a massive dick, Mystrade feels, Mystrade smut, Mycroft gets scary, John is beyond cruel.

Greg slept peacefully, cuddling his soon-to-be husband. They were together in his dream but it was quite relaxing seeing as they both didn't want to wake up out of breath. They talked about anything and everything, even speculating about the possibility of children, though they were both far from ready to have one.

Greg woke bright and early the next morning, stretching out his sore limbs. He rolled over and smiled over at Mycroft, his eyes dancing.

'When do we leave?' he said instead of the traditional good morning.

'As soon as we can. I need you to check on our guests. I'll make us a light breakfast and get dressed.' Mycroft beamed happily and lightly kissed his lover on the lips.

'Guests?' Greg quirked an eyebrow before the lightbulb clicked. 'Ah. You mean your brother. Right. Do you want them to join us or do you just want me to check on how Sherlock's doing?'

'Oh, he's perfectly fine. Going by the sounds I heard in the night.'

'He and John getting back at us?' Greg smirked. 'Glad I didn't hear.'

'You're lucky. It was disturbing to say the least.'

'Mmm. Glad I slept through it.' He stretched again and crawled out of bed, heading to his wardrobe to get dressed.

'I envy you. Sleep comes so easily to humans,' Mycroft sighed softky, stretching out beneath the covers.

'Well, when you fall asleep you're pretty dead to the world,' Greg stated. 'Wish I could sleep like that. Now get dressed. I'll check on your brother.'

'Mmf,' Mycroft groaned and rolled out of bed, hobbling over to his wardrobe.

'That's my boy,' Greg hummed. 'Be back soon.' He pressed a kiss to Mycroft's shoulder and went to Sherlock's room, knocking softly before opening the door.

'Come in!' Sherlock called softly. He was currently cuddled up with David in bed.

'Hi,' Greg smiled warmly, sitting beside the bed. 'How're you two doing this morning?'

'We're ok.' Sherlock grinned down at little David. 'Aren't we David?'

'Yeh! Papa ith weading me a bee thtory!'

'A what?' Greg asked. 'A bee story?'

David nodded and wiggled from his papa's lap, struggling off the bed and landing on the floor with a soft thump. He crawled over to the nice, grey haired man and held out a tiny hand to him.

'Hey there little man,' Greg smiled, picking David up. 'My name is Greg. I'm your Uncle Myc's human.'

'I'm David. Papa doethn't like Uncle Myc muth.'

'They're brothers. They're allowed to not really like each other,' Greg laughed.

'I dun have a brother,' David pouted.

'Maybe if you're very, very lucky you could get a sibling,' Greg whispered in his ear, making sure Sherlock didn't overhear.

David giggled. 'Are you and uncle Myc gonna have a baba too?'

'One day, maybe. Though not anytime soon. We aren't ready for a baby just yet.' He looked over to Sherlock. 'Where's John?'

'He's Skyping with his mother,' Sherlock grinned.

'Oh. Good. Um... Shouldn't he be going home soon? I mean, as soon as you're healed.'

'Yes. He will be leaving this weekend.'

'Oh. So soon? Will you be going with him?'

'No.' Sherlock sighed and rolled over in his bed, burying his face in the pillow.

'Oh. I'm sorry. Well, at least you'll have David. He's half John. That's got to count for something.'

'It won't be the same though.' Sherlock sighed again. 'I'll miss him.'

'You guys can spend time together I your dreams,' Greg suggested. 'How much longer until you're healed?'

'I practically am. It's just my wings to go now.' Sherlock sniffled. 'And I'm not sure I want to spend time with a man who shags bloody bimbos in his dreams.'

'What do you mean?' Greg asked, covering David's ears and sitting by Sherlock on the bed.

'Can I tell you a secret? You mustn't tell John.'

'Unless it has to do with him or you dying in some way, sure, I think I can keep it.'

'It's to do with him,' Sherlock said in a small voice.

'I figured as much,' Greg sighed. 'I know you love him, if that's what you were going to tell me. Though based on the look you're giving me I'm going to have to say it wasn't. So, what is it?'

'Since David's birth I've been able to hear John's thoughts. I know every little detail in his mind. I try to shut off from it! I really do! It's just... really hard not to look. And last night I was awake and I tuned into John's thoughts... and he doesn't love me. He's using me. I'm just an experiment. Cuz he was at it with a woman. Her name is Mary and when he goes home he's going to replace me with her.'

'You can read John's mind? Shouldn't he know about that? And don't angel-human telepathic relationships, you know, reciprocate? Shouldn't he be able to hear your thoughts too?'

'No. He doesn't need to know. He'd only get frightened. And no, it isn't reciprocated. I'm clever. I've blocked off my mind from him.'

'You should tell him what's happened. He knows that sometimes angels and humans can have telepathic relationships I assume? Maybe he won't get as frightened as you think he will. But you need to talk to him. I know you love him, and John loves you too on some level. He's a good kid, Sherlock. Please just talk to him. He needs to know how he's making you feel.'

'Why?' Sherlock scoffed. 'He's been using me. He doesn't love me. He just wanted to lose his fucking virginity. And he's done that now so he can fuck off for all I care.'

'Did he actually say that? And by say I mean think.'

'Yes,' Sherlock huffed. 'He did think that.'

'Well, if that's the case, he certainly got a lot more than he bargained for,' Greg sighed, looking down at David.

'We really made a mess of things. We shouldn't have involved a child in our relationship.' Sherlock glanced at David. 'But I'm too in love with him to care right now.'

'He's a sweet little boy,' Greg said, smiling down at David. 'And I'm so sorry about John. I honestly thought he loved you. I mean, I've seen the way he looks at you. Like first or new lovers do. It looked so sincere. I can't believe that wasn't real.'

'I know. He likes to make people think he genuinely cares. But he doesn't. He just wants sex.'

'Typical man, I'm sorry to say,' Greg frowned. 'Do you want me to talk to him?'

Sherlock nodded and frowned. 'Could you?'

'Of course,' Greg smiled softly. 'I'll do it before he leaves. Promise. I'm rather busy today though. But before I go can I get you anything? Water? Some food?'

'Some honey on toast?' Sherlock asked softly.

'Sure thing,' Greg smiled softly. He handed David back and went into the kitchen to make Sherlock some toast. Mycroft was there cooking eggs. An omelette.

'Smells great,' he said, inhaling deeply.

'Thanks, dear,' Mycroft smiled. 'How are our guests?'

'John is Skyping with his mother, Sherlock is recovering nicely, and David is as adorable as ever,' Greg reported.  _Though John is apparently an asshole who just wanted to lose his virginity to gain sexual experience and Sherlock is completely broken up about it,_ he thought to himself.

Mycroft smiled, plating up the omelettes. 'Good. Now, let's tuck in shall we?'

'Not yet. Need to make Sherlock some toast with honey.' Greg grabbed two slices of bread and popped them in the toaster, humming a random tune.

'You're soft on my brother,' Mycroft smirked, sitting down to eat his own omelette.

'What can I say? I like the kid,' Greg smiled. 'He's very sweet when you get him to open up.'

'Kind of like me then,' Mycroft laughed softly.

'Yes. Very much like you,' Greg smiled fondly. The toast popped up and Greg out the pieces on a plate, slathering them in honey and pouring Sherlock a glass of milk as well.

'Be right back, then I'll eat my own breakfast.' He kissed Mycroft on the top of his head and went back to Sherlock's room, sitting the plate and glass on the rolling table.

'There you go, hun. Toast with honey and a glass of milk to wash it down. Need anything else?'

'For my heart to be glued back together,' Sherlock mumbled. 'I hate John.'

'I know. And I'm sorry. I wish I could help. But he's a dick. But I'll talk to him. Don't worry. I'll try to set him straight.'

'Won't fix things though,' Sherlock sniffled, wiping at his eyes. 'He'll still fucking hurt me.'

'I know, but then he'll see what he's done. Maybe he'll try to fix things? I don't know. But I'm so sorry he used you like that.'

'It's fine. I was using him too. I wanted to know what love felt like.'

'And did you like what you found?' Greg asked softly.

'Until the moment I truly realised the feeling wasn't mutual, yes, I did,' Sherlock choked out, tears rolling down his cheeks.

'Oh sweetie. Come here.' Greg sat on the bed and pulled Sherlock into a hug, little David clutching to his papa's chest in the semblance of a hug as well. Sherlock's wings wrapped around Greg and he sobbed openly, David startling and sobbing too.

'I'm sorry. I'm so sorry,' Greg apologised, hugging Sherlock tight. Sherlock continued to sob, only stopping when he heard footsteps. He froze and huddled closer to his brother's human.

'Sherlock? What's going on? I had to mute my Skype call with my mum because she could hear someone crying. Is everything alright?'

'Go away,' Sherlock grumbled into Greg's shoulder. 'Go away and bloody stay away. David and I are fine on our own.'

'I'm sorry... What?' John stepped into the room, frowning deeply. 'What did I do?'

'Just go.' Sherlock dragged himself closer to Greg, hugging him tighter. 'I want to keep what's left of my heart thank you very much.'

'Sherlock, what are you on about?'

'He can read your mind, John,' Greg blurted, glaring at the boy. 'He can read your bloody mind and he knows that you only had sex with him to gain experience for a girl you like. So just go before I sock you.'

John blinked before his shoulders slumped in relief.

'Oh thank god,' he sighed. 'It's about fucking time you figured it out. You idiot. You honestly think I could love you? You're an angel. A  _male_  angel at that. And I specifically stated when we first met that I wasn't gay. Now I'm pretty sure I'm bisexual, but whatever. Not important. Thanks for the shags though. They were great. You've got a fucking tight little arse. Take care of the kid. I'll see ya back at home.' John left the room, closing the door behind him, and went back to his call with his mom, talking to her animatedly about Italy and the gorgeous weather and the fake people he'd met.

Sherlock slumped further in Greg's arms. He was shaking now. Actually shaking. 'How can he be so cruel? I gave him my everything. I said I'd die for him. I stopped him from doing bloody reckless things. And that's how he treats me? I'm nothing but his sex slave.'

'I'm so sorry you got him for your human,' Greg said softly, petting Sherlock's hair. 'You deserve so much better than him.'

'It's fine. He doesn't want me. That can be dealt with easily. Best part yet is that he won't even remember me.'

Greg froze. He and Myc had just discussed that. No. He wouldn't allow Sherlock to do that. He hugged him tighter and nuzzled his hair.

'Don't you dare kill yourself. Please, Sherlock.'

'Why? Who cares if I live or die? You? You don't even know me.'

'If I didn't care would I be here consoling you?' Greg retorted. 'And what about your son? I'm pretty sure he'd care if you died. And though he doesn't show it all that often, Myc would care too. You're his only family at this point, other than David's new addition. We're your family, Sherlock, and we care about whether you live or die.'

'I don't want to be John's angel any more. Death is the only contract breaker.'

'Can't you just not be around him? Myc and I live our separate lives. He goes to the High Council, I go to work. We aren't always together. Couldn't you just not go near him? Please, Sherlock, I don't want you to die. David doesn't want you to die. Please.'

'What? And go running back to him every time he needs a shag?' Sherlock huffed a laugh. 'No thank you.'

'You can ignore him, can't you? Mycroft does it all the bloody time. Like now, for instance. He's been ignoring your cries and I'm fairly sure he heard John's dick speech. You can be a cruel bastard to him the same way he was to you.'

'Yeah. I suppose,' Sherlock sighed. 'One thing's for sure is that he won't be hearing from me ever again.'

'Good. Just stay away from him. He's not good for you. Just as long as you stay alive.'

'Ok. Yeah. I promise not to do anything stupid. Now, go and marry my brother.'

'How did you–?'

'The ring on your finger,' Sherlock smiled softly.

Greg looked down at his finger and laughed. 'Oh. Right. Well, I guess I should be going then. Stay safe. And tell David more of that bee story to make you both feel better.'

'Bee! Bee!' David chorused.

'Oh alright. One more time.' Sherlock rolled his eyes but grinned.

'Have fun you two. I'll see you later. Eat your toast.'

Sherlock nodded and reached for his toast. 'Thanks for the talk.'

'You're welcome,' Greg smiled, smoothing out Sherlock's hair. 'Take care of yourself and your boy. I'll be back soon. I think.'

'Congratulations,' Sherlock said around a mouthful of toast. 'My brother really loves you.'

'Thank you,' Greg beamed. He waved at David before taking his leave, joining Mycroft in the kitchen and scarfing down his reheated omelette.

'That human of his will be punished severely,' Mycroft growled.

'So you did hear then,' Greg muttered around a mouthful of food. 'And don't. I told Sherlock I'd do it. While John already fears you he doesn't fear me. So I'll give him a reason to fear the entire Holmes family. I can be pretty terrifying when I want to be.'

Mycroft laughed fondly. 'That you can, dear. That you can.'

Greg smiled and finished his breakfast, standing quickly and wrapping his arms around Mycroft.

'Now let's go get married. I can't stand to not officially be yours a second longer.'

'Yes, let's go.' Mycroft held onto Gregory tightly as they transported to the registry office together. Greg held onto Mycroft's hand tight as he set everything up. He was nervous and excited and just couldn't wait to marry his angel.

Mycroft kissed Gregory softly. 'Come on, love. They're ready for us now.'

'I'm ready,' Greg smiled softly, squeezing Mycroft's hand. Mycroft led him further into the registry office. A young, petite, male angel stood before them, smiling faintly.

 _He looks uncomfortable,_ Greg thought sadly.  _Are there really no angels who support angel-human relationships?_

'You understand what price you'll pay if this gets out, yes?' Mycroft glared at the young angel, his threat dripping in venom and a definite promise to hurt him if his and Gregory's secret marriage was leaked.

'This isn't my first time,' the young angel scoffed, rolling his eyes. 'Though I know your threat is more valid given your status. Your secret is safe with everyone here.'

'Good to know. Now, can we get started?'

'Of course, sir.' The angel made a bible materialise in his hands and opened it up, simply reading a few passages and then asking them both if they would promise to love and to cherish one another, through better or worse, sickness and in health, blah blah blah. Both men said 'I do' and the angel pronounced them married, using a bit of magic on their clasped hands to bind them together better than any ring ever could.

Mycroft pulled his Gregory into a deep kiss. The magic bonding them seemed to pulse through both their bodies and souls, like a rope connecting them. They were one unit now and Mycroft was going to make sure Gregory knew that. The strange sensation of their bond felt like there was a tiny dragon living inside of Mycroft, breathing fire and sealing them together forever. Greg felt the magic pulling him and Mycroft closer together, their hearts beating as one. He kissed him passionately, the magic pulsing stronger and stronger until it finally ebbed away. There were some marks on their arms where the magic had bound them, reminding Greg of how the Unbreakable Vow had bound Severus and Narcissa together. He pulled away and smiled giddily up at his husband, his body vibrating with excitement. Mycroft chuckled softly and brushed a finger against his new husbands slightly stubbled cheek.

'Let's go home and make this marriage a sealed deal.'

'Yes dear,' Greg moaned, wrapping his arms around him tight as they were transported away. They landed on their bed together. Mycroft didn't waste any time to rid them both of their clothes. He kissed Gregory down the length of his neck.

'Do you feel it? Our bond? The magic?'

'Yes. Pulsing, warm magic,' Greg whispered. 'I can feel it binding me to you.'

'I feel... I don't know. Like I'm high. I feel content and happy, and just brilliant.'

'I bet it will feel even better when you're inside me,' Greg purred.

'I'm sure it will,' Mycroft smirked, reaching for a bottle of lube that was waiting on their bedside table. He squirted a hefty amount onto his fingers and inserted one into Gregory's entrance with care.

'I'm still pretty relaxed from last night,' Greg moaned, spreading his legs open. 'You don't have to be so gentle.'

'I want to be,' Mycroft hushed. 'You're beautiful.'

'Ok, but give me one more finger though. I need to feel more of you in me.'

Mycroft added another finger and stretched Gregory. 'I love you. God, I love you so much. And now you're mine for eternity.'

'Was that magic angel binding magic?' Greg asked past a groan.

'Yes.' Mycroft pushed in a third finger. 'It's very powerful magic.'

'Bound together for life? For all eternity?'

'That's correct,' Mycroft said softly. 'Problem?'

'None at all,' Greg smiled. 'Perfect, actually.'

'Fantastic! Ready for me now?'

'Oh yes. So ready. Consummate our marriage.'

'God yes!' Mycroft removed his fingers and gently pressed his cock into his lover. Greg gasped and moaned as Mycroft entered him, his mouth hanging open in ecstasy.

'I love you,' Mycroft hummed, moving steadily in and out of Gregory.

'I love you too,' Greg moaned, pulling Mycroft down for a heated kiss. Mycroft pushed further in to Gregory, nudging his prostate. He grinned at the loud moan that escaped his lips. He moved back then drove back in again. He did that until he had built up a steady rhythm.

'Oh god,' Greg gasped, clutching Mycroft tight. 'If you – oh! – keep this up I – shit! – won't last long!'

'Can't have that, can we dear?' Mycroft slowed down his pace and began kissing Gregory all over.

'No. I want this to last as long as possible,' Greg moaned, arching his body into Mycroft's kisses.

'Me too. This moment in time is possibly the most important moment in my life, and it's with you. I never want it to end.'

'We've got the rest of our lives together, Myc. It's never gonna end,' Greg said softly, pulling him in for another kiss.

'You can't possibly know that. Who knows what will happen in the future.'

'Don't talk like that,' Greg frowned. 'Even if one of us dies we'll still be together. Because I'm pretty sure we wouldn't be able to live without each other. Till death do we part. And we shall depart together.'

Mycroft swallowed and nodded. 'I would definitely die for you. I just meant that if we're found out there are quite a few fates that would await me. All of them horrifying.'

'Let's not think about that now,' Greg pouted. 'We just got married. Let's be happy about that.'

'Yes, dear,' Mycroft smiled weakly and picked up his pace.

'My husband,' Greg hummed. 'My gorgeous husband. Oh yes! Right there!'

'Yes! Yours! All yours!' Mycroft lifted Gregory's legs over his shoulders to reach a better angle.

'Oh! Oh fuck! Myyyyyc!' Greg cried, his hands fisting in the sheets as his husband fucked him.

'How do I make you feel?' Mycroft growled. 'Good? Does my Gregory feel good?'

'Yes! Yes! Your Gregory feels bloody amazing!' the man in question cried. 'Fuck! Nearly there! Nearly there!'

'Cum for me, Gregory!' Mycroft cried out, moving at an even more punishing pace.

'Myyyyyyyyy!' Greg screamed as he came hard, spurting all over Mycroft's chest.

'That's it! Cum for me! Fuck! Gregory!' Mycroft joined Gregory and came too, his cock pulsing and twitching. Greg continued to scream as Mycroft filled him to the brim with his cum, his body twitching like mad from the pleasure.

Mycroft paused once he'd finished cumming. He looked down at Gregory lovingly. He decided something in that moment. He wanted to have children with Gregory. He wanted their love to create something. He sighed and pulled out, cuddling up to his Gregory. His new husband wouldn't agree to it, not right now. It wasn't the right time.

'God, that was fantastic,' Greg gasped out, a sated smile on his face. 'Holy shit. That was amazing. God I love you.'

Mycroft hummed loudly, still in deep thought about having children with Gregory.

'Hey.' Greg poked Mycroft in the side. 'What are you thinking about?'

'What?' Mycroft blinked. 'Oh. Just being married to a wonderful man like you.'

'There's more to it than that. You had your thinking face on. What idea have you conjured up in that massive brain of yours?'

'Ok. You got me. I was thinking about work,' Mycroft lied. 'I do apologise.'

'Myc, you know how I feel about you thinking about work while we're in bed,' Greg frowned. 'This is our sacred space. Nothing else is supposed to be in here. Not work, not external or internal problems, just us.'

'I'm – I'm sorry.' Mycroft swallowed and rolled away from Gregory, curling in on himself and sighing loudly. Greg sighed too and got out of bed.

'I'm gonna go check on your brother,' he told the lump in the sheets. He pulled on a pair of pyjamas and went downstairs, his bare feet cold against the wood floors. He knocked on Sherlock's door gently, not wanting to wake him if he was asleep.

'Come in,' Sherlock called softly. Greg opened the door and smiled at Sherlock softly.

'Hey. You feeling any better?'

'Not really, no. John's been super cruel to me.'

'I'm sorry, hun,' Greg frowned. 'I can still talk to him if you want.'

'Can you punch him for me too? Send that pretty face to hell and back.'

'I'll let you have the pleasure of doing that,' Greg said softly, a small smile on his lips.

'I can't. I can't hurt him,' Sherlock sighed. 'So please punch him for me.'

'Oh. Right. Angels can't cause physical harm to their humans. In that case, fine. If he pisses me off enough I'll punch him.'

'He's got David. I'm worried–' Sherlock was cut off by loud yelling from close by. '–about him. Christ. Get David! Get John away from my boy!'

Greg shot up and ran toward the screaming, bursting into another guest room to find John binding David's wings. He wrenched the boy away from John and slapped him across the face before taking David back to Sherlock, gently taking the bindings off his wings as he made his way back.

'What did he do?!' Sherlock cried, tears flooding down his cheeks. 'What did he do to my baby boy?!'

'He was binding his wings,' Greg frowned, taking off the last of the ropes and tape before passing David over to his dad. 'He's gonna be ok, though. Shall I get him some food and milk?'

'No! Don't leave us!' Sherlock whimpered, clutching David close. 'He'll come back for us.'

'I can take you with me. You can walk, yes?'

'A little,' Sherlock sighed.

'Ok. You hold David, I'll support you as we make our way to the kitchen. You could use some water. You look quite peaky.'

'I don't feel very well,' Sherlock croaked.

'Are you gonna be sick?' Greg asked, laying the back of his hand on Sherlock's forehead, checking his temperature. Sherlock shuddered and nodded.

'Bucket now.' Greg passed Sherlock the bucket by the bed and took David from him, cuddling him to his chest as Sherlock retched. Sherlock threw up violently for a good few minutes before collapsing against the mattress with a noise akin to a dying animal.

'You gonna be ok?' Greg asked, worried. 'Do you want some water now?'

Sherlock shook his head and mumbled something incoherent, his eyes rolling to the back of his skull and his body fitting.

'Oh god. Oh god. Myc!' Greg screamed. 'Myc! I need help!'

Mycroft appeared in a flash of light. 'Dear lord.' He hurried over to Sherlock and inspected him, his face darkening. 'Where's John? He's hurting him mentally! Where's that fucking twat of a human?!'

'What's happening?! John's in the other room. Make him stop!'

'I'm fucking going to kill him!' Mycroft ran screaming all the way into John's room. John yelped when Mycroft burst in, leaping up and scrambling away.

'What the fuck are you playing at?!' Mycroft spat, grabbing John so he could smash him around the face. 'First of all you bind my nephew's wings. Yes, I know about that! The only reason I didn't come down on you like a ton of bricks is because Gregory hit you for me. But now you're fucking hurting my baby brother! Stop it now!'

'He's my angel!' John spat. 'I can do with him how I see fit! Consider it payback for  _raping_  me and  _forcing_  me to carry his child!'

Mycroft hit John again. John's nose gave a satisfying crunch and blood spurted from it. 'You bastard! You're killing him! Stop it now before I kill you!'

John merely laughed and spat blood at Mycroft.

'You can't do anything about it,' he sneered. 'You're part of the High Council. And what would they think if you killed the human guarded by your own brother? You'd both be executed. Sherlock for not protecting me and you for murder.'

'Actually John dear, they'd probably promote me. Abuse of an angel-human bond is accountable for death. So, on your head be it.'

Mycroft punched John again, sending him flying. He kicked him in the gut and sent a punch to his ribs.

'He's a fucking idiot!' John cried. 'He claims he loves me but he doesn't even know what love is! And he fucking  _raped_  me and brought an  _illegal_  child into the world! He  _forced_  me to have it! How is that not abuse of our relationship?! I had no say whatsoever in the matter!'

'I was there! He gave you a fucking choice!' Mycroft kicked John in the stomach again. 'This is no reason to kill him! Do you want to go down for murder of a prize angel?!'

'He did not give me a fucking choice! You weren't there before the ultrasound! He made me feel that the damn thing was alive! He made me have it because he wanted to keep it! I didn't! I had no say over my own bloody body! This must be how women feel in America! And what the fuck is a prize angel?'

'Top of the range!' Mycroft snarled. 'Basically royalty in angel terms! So god help me if I have to kill you before you kill him! And for crying out loud Sherlock was going to force an abortion on you! Remember that? Because he cared about you, not the child!'

'Just fuck off!' John screamed. 'Kill me! You'll be doing me a favour!  _Kill me!_ '

'Fine! Just bear in mind I can bring you back and repeat the process again and again!' Mycroft began stamping on John's head furiously.

John lay motionless and allowed Mycroft to bash in his skull, a satisfied smiled on his face. He was finally going to die. He was going to be at peace for the first time in his life.

'Sweet dreams, dear. See you in a minute.' Mycroft snapped John's neck in one swift movement, freeing Sherlock from his pain. Mycroft waited a few minutes, allowing John to think he'd escaped. Then he healed him and dragged his soul back into his body. John gasped for breath as he came back to life, blood flowing down his throat and into his lungs. He coughed and spluttered and gasped for air but Mycroft was already kicking him again.

'How much more of this can you take?!' Mycroft roared, kicking John with a brutish force.

'As much as I want!' John screamed at him. 'You think this is the first time I've died and been brought back? I may not have officially died but I've been dead for years!'

Sherlock turned up then in a flash of light. Blood was dripping from his nose, ears, and eyes and he was covered in vomit. He hauled John into his arms and transported him far away. They landed with a thud in a large field. It looked similar to the field in John's dream, Sherlock noted. He used his remaining energy to heal a startled John before his body slumped and his eyes glazed over with the threat of death.

'Sherlock?' John choked out, gasping for breath. 'Sherlock, why did you do that?'

Sherlock mumbled something incoherent under his breath, his eyes closing as death drew closer. John whimpered and closed his eyes, imagining Sherlock healed and perfectly fine. If he could hurt him in his mind maybe he could heal him too.

'It doesn't work like that I'm afraid.' Mycroft appeared and knelt down beside Sherlock. He scooped him up into his arms and held him close. 'If there's anything you want to say to him say it now.'

'I... I'm sorry,' John said softly. 'If this is the last I see of you, please know I appreciated you as an angel and a friend. And I'm sorry for leading you on. I turned into my father, a man I swore I would never become. I'm so sorry for being so cruel. So, if this is goodbye, know that I  _do_  love you, in my own way. Goodbye.' He dared to press a soft kiss to Sherlock's forehead before Mycroft transported him away. John was left alone in the field, in the middle of god knows where, left to his thoughts.

**...::-::...**

'Gregory!' Mycroft sobbed out for his husband, his baby brother's body limp in his arms.

'Mycroft! What's happened?' Greg came running out of the kitchen, leaving David in his high chair, smashing potatoes with his hands. 'Oh my god! Is he ok?!'

'What the hell do you think?!' Mycroft sobbed, rocking his baby brother gently. 'He's dead.'

Greg rushed forward and held his fingers to Sherlock's neck, checking for a pulse. He held his ear close to Sherlock's mouth and gasped.

'No he's not. He's still alive, but barely so. Get your medical team here now! He can be saved, My! Save him!'

'Get them,' Mycroft whispered. 'You know what to do. Just get them, please.'

'Keep him alive,' Greg instructed, running off to summon the doctors.

'It's gonna be ok, Sherlock,' Mycroft hushed. 'You're going to be ok.'

Greg returned moments later with the squadron of Mycroft's private medical staff. They gently took Sherlock out of his arms and rushed him to the nearest hospital, tending to him with the utmost care and respect an angel could get.

'Gregory,' Mycroft gasped out, still in shock, tears tumbling down his cheeks. 'He's not going to make it, is he?'

'He's strong, Myc. I feel confident that he'll be fine.' Greg hugged Mycroft securely, little David's splats of him mashing his potatoes echoing down the hall.

'Go to David. I'm going to the hospital. See you... I don't know when.'

'Call me when there are any developments.' He kissed Mycroft softly and went to David, giving him some blueberries to munch on. Mycroft sighed, hung his head in defeat and transported himself to the hospital. Greg stayed with David and kept him preoccupied while he waited for word on Sherlock, reading to him until he fell asleep. And John... Shit! Where the hell had he gone? Where had Sherlock taken him, because he wasn't with Mycroft when they returned. Despite the boy's bad attitude, he hoped he was ok and that Mycroft hadn't killed him.

**...::-::...**

Sherlock's recovery was long and tedious. The damage John had done had been severe. John, oh dear lord. What had become of his human? Mycroft wasn't talking and Sherlock had been kept under curfew, not allowed to see or talk to anyone. But now Sherlock was fully recovered it was time to find out. He transported himself to John's bedroom, his heart heavy with pain and fear. He didn't know what to expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry, everyone. This is just getting darker and darker, isn't it? This is what happens when we write late at night and when we can't sleep. I'm so sorry.
> 
> There might not be an update next week, but we'll try to get one out regardless. Whether it's posted early or late, we'll try to update.
> 
> Until next time,
> 
> ~TSA + MJCF


	28. Slow Recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Happy Tuesday-slash-Wednesday! Apologies for not posting this over the weekend, but MJCF and I were incredibly busy roadtripping and taking stupid selfies along the way. MJCF leaves me tomorrow (sob sob) and coincidentally I also go back to work tomorrow. It will be a sad day all around.
> 
> MJCF: Sherlock  
> Me: John and Mary
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: Johnlock angst, mentions of physical violence, smut, anal sex, Johnlock feels, blowjobs, a small bit of desperation play and urination (for those who don't like squick, consider yourselves warned), talk of death and suicide (from the previous chapter), lots of heavy snogging, more anal sex, a bit of dom/sub action, and a teeny bit of fluff at the end.

Months had gone by since Mycroft had taken a bloodied Sherlock away, leaving John alone in the field. He'd managed to flag a car down and asked where he was, and he was given a ride to the train station and some money to pay his way back home. It felt good to see his family again, his mother looking happier than ever due to Sherlock's influence on his father. Harry had moved out with her new girlfriend apparently, so he had the house to himself and they had a new guest room for the stray visitor. Mary had shown up shortly after his return and they'd gone out for lunch, John telling tall tales about his fake gap year.

When he didn't hear anything from Mycroft, John assumed Sherlock had died, hence his saying his goodbyes. Mary had been there to grieve with him, though she'd only ever met Sherlock once. John just felt so utterly guilty though. He'd caused Sherlock's death. He'd been so petty and angry with him about the birth that he wanted him to suffer. And he'd killed his own angel. How was he not dead as well? Mycroft had sworn death upon him, but perhaps this was a more suitable punishment. He had to live with the guilt of killing his guardian angel. Even with Mary's support, John slipped into a dark depression, resuming his cutting and starving himself until he looked like a sickly cancer patient. He felt numb, dead inside, and was wracked with so much guilt he could barely stand it. Why hadn't Mycroft just killed him? Why couldn't he just let him die?

He was currently lying on his bed, Mary cuddled to his chest for comfort. They'd sort of become a couple, constantly going out to eat or share some tea and scones. Mary was his rock. He wasn't sure where he would be without her, but he assumed he'd probably be dead for sure. She kept him grounded, to an extent, and never judged him whenever she caught sight of his cuts and scars, though she was dreadfully concerned for him and asked him to try other methods to cope instead of self-harm. Today they were simply cuddling on his bed whilst listening to the TV in the background, just relaxing. It was nice, peaceful. Until Sherlock popped back in and John's heart plummeted into his stomach. Sherlock padded up to the bed, cocking his head slightly, observing John with owl like eyes.

'John, it's good to see you again,' he said in a hollow sounding voice.

'You... You aren't dead,' John choked out. Mary looked up at Sherlock and gave him a small smile, sitting up so she wasn't draped over John should he want to get up and hug his angel.

'Not dead, no. I came close though.' Sherlock glared at John coldly. 'I've been in hospital recovering.'

'I... I didn't know.' John gulped, frozen to his spot on his bed. 'I... I would have visited had I known you were ok. I... Mycroft didn't tell me anything. I just assumed you'd died since he'd told me to say goodbye to you.'

'You're disappointed,' Sherlock stated. 'It'd be so much easier for you if I were dead, wouldn't it?'

'What?! No!' John shot out of bed and wrapped his arms around Sherlock in a tight hug. 'I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I was a right bastard to treat you the way I did. I'm so, so sorry. I know you'll never forgive me. Please don't leave me again. I need you. Please, Sherlock, please.'

'I'm not going anywhere.' Sherlock tensed. 'I just don't think we can be friends anymore. Not after you hurt David and almost killed me and left him fatherless. Now, let go of me.'

John let out a choked sob and stepped away, tears falling down his cheeks.

'Well, I'm off now. Good to see you. Goodbye.' Sherlock closed his eyes and transported himself far, far away. John broke, falling to the floor with a strangled sob, curling in on himself. Mary knew well enough to give him his space. She left quietly, leaving the house and returning home.

**...::-::...**

Sherlock threw himself into fatherhood, avoiding John to the best of his ability. He only turned up when John was in physical danger. He barely talked to John anymore and when he did things were awkward and tense. John's new relationship with Mary didn't help matters, in fact it worsened things. When Sherlock had brought up the fact John had been using him so he could get with Mary with a bit of experience behind him, it had only ended in a brutal argument, leading to John hospitalising Sherlock again. After that, Sherlock began to ignore John's calls for help. He was far too busy with David, teaching him how to fly and watching as he grew to the size of a ten year old human child within a matter of months. David was, to put it simply, a brilliant and highly talented angel fledgling and so it didn't take him long to realise he was different from the other fledglings. He remembered John vaguely but a lot of his memories had been deleted out of fear, probably after John had tried to bind his wings. Sherlock told him a glorified story of how his daddy had gone to live another life so that he could become the best doctor in the world. David, though smart, was still a child and believed the tale Sherlock had woven.

It was killing Sherlock to watch John going on with his life like what he and Sherlock had once had was nothing, like David didn't even exist, like he simply didn't care about Sherlock at all anymore. One day he found himself on the breaking point. Seeing John blissfully kissing Mary from the distance made him snap. He ran out of his hiding spot and stormed over to John.

'May I talk with you?' he growled fiercely, causing John to shake in his boots and Mary to cry out a little in fear.

'Um... sure. Mary, wait here, ok?' Mary nodded and John followed Sherlock a safe distance away, slightly worried about what he was going to say.

'You're breaking my heart, you know that?' Sherlock said softly. 'I know we can't be together but can you at least act as though you give a fuck about me?'

'You haven't exactly been around, Sherlock,' John frowned. 'You don't even come to help me anymore. It's like I don't even have an angel anymore. So why should I care about you when it's evident you won't be caring for me?'

'You're wrong. Just because you don't see me doesn't mean I've abandoned you. I'm a lot closer than you think. Those bullies that went missing? That was me. When you went to find appliances to try to kill yourself and found them gone? Again, that was me. When you were struggling to keep up your erection with Mary I gave you a little kick in the right direction so she wouldn't even notice the difference. Don't you  _dare_  say I haven't been there for you.'

'You... you were there when we had sex?' John paled significantly.

'You  _did_  call,' Sherlock shrugged. 'You were struggling quite a bit. Why?'

'I called for you? I... I don't remember doing that.'

'Mmm. Yes, you did. You didn't answer my question. Why were you having problems, John? Nothing quite compares to what we had, huh? Want to shag me on this very spot? By your erection I can see that you do.'

'You're a right git, you know that?' John growled. Sherlock was right, and he knew Sherlock knew seeing as he could read his mind. 'If you must know, yes, I couldn't get it up because I was with Mary and thinking of you helped tremendously. Happy? Though you already knew that you fucking mind reader.'

'Then you're still looking for an angel fuck,' Sherlock smirked. 'I'll make a deal with you. If you attend David's upcoming birthday then I'll shag you on a daily basis. Think of me as your bit on the side.'

'Jesus Christ, he's gonna be a year old now isn't he?' John stepped back and took in a deep breath. 'How big is he now? Is he flying yet?'

'If you want to find out about him you bloody come and see him! Now, do we have a deal?'

'Yes. Yes, alright. Fine. We've got a deal,' John sighed. 'Now bloody kiss me.'

Sherlock launched himself at John, kissing him with as much tenderness as he could muster. John moaned and whimpered, wrapping his arms around Sherlock's neck, tangling his fingers in his hair.

'Take me home. Take me to bed,' he moaned into the kiss.

'What about Mary?' Sherlock hissed, his lips forming a snarl. 'You don't want to run back to her?'

'I'll have to come back, Sherlock. She's my sort of girlfriend. I honestly don't know what we are. I'm sorry, but she's important to me. She's been good to me, good  _for_  me. And she helped me cope when I thought you were dead.'

'Fine,' Sherlock huffed. 'Let's go back to yours and shag.'

'Thank you,' John moaned as Sherlock transported them away, tearing at their clothes in his haste to get them both naked.

'You missed me, huh?' Sherlock grinned as their clothes were completely discarded.

'Yes. Oh god, yes,' John moaned, pulling Sherlock down for another kiss.

'Do you want to take me? I'm already open from using sex toys on a daily basis,' Sherlock panted against John's lips.

'Mmm. My dirty angel,' John purred. 'Sure. Wanna suck me to add some lubrication?'

'No! Just take me! Take me now!'

'Jesus. Ok.' John lined himself up and pushed in slowly, moaning at the tight feeling.

'Ah! Fuck!' Sherlock screamed out, caught between pain and pleasure.

'Fuck, you're tight,' John groaned, pushing all the way in and settling there for a moment. 'Holy shit I forgot how wonderful you felt around my cock.'

Sherlock sighed sadly and closed his eyes. 'Just go ahead and fuck me. I know that's all you want from me.'

'No. No I don't. You deserve more than a quick fuck.' John leant down and kissed Sherlock softly, holding his face tenderly in his hands. Sherlock sobbed brokenly against John's lips, clutching him tightly.

'You must have really, really hated me. You wanted to inflict pain on me so badly. You succeeded. I'm so sorry for giving you reason to do that. God, I'm sorry John!'

'Shhh. We can apologise later. Consider this my apology for hurting you.' He kissed Sherlock again and pulled out slowly, pushing back in at the same speed, moving in a steady rhythm.

Sherlock moaned loudly. 'I love you,' he breathed out softly. 'The way you make me feel is amazing.'

'You make me feel pretty damn amazing too,' John grinned, moving a little faster.

Sherlock rocked backwards on John's cock in time with his thrusts. 'Faster! Please! Go faster!'

John sped up his thrusts, leaning down to kiss Sherlock heatedly as they made love.

'Oh,' Sherlock gasped against John's lips. 'Oh yes! I love you! I love you so fucking much! Sooo close!'

John took Sherlock's cock in hand and stroked him in time to his thrusts, his own release not far off.

'Jawwn!' Sherlock screamed, throwing his head back and arching his body as he came in one swift motion.

'Oh god. Sherlooock!' John screamed as he too came over the edge, spurting thickly into his angel. Sherlock whimpered and kissed John softly as his body shook with an overdose of pleasure. John completely emptied himself in Sherlock and groaned as he came down from his high, collapsing on top of Sherlock with a wet slap.

'Love you.' Sherlock placed kisses along John's neck. 'Thank you for this. I know it couldn't have been easy.'

'I was apprehensive at first, but it felt fucking fantastic,' John said breathlessly. 'Thank you for letting me do that. It couldn't have been easy for you either.'

'It was fine whilst we were doing it. Not so much now though. I can't help but think you're going to hurt me again.'

'No. I don't want to do that ever again.' John pulled out and sat back. 'If it would make you feel better I'll call Mary and tell her I won't be coming back as I'm spending some time with you.'

'Yes. It'd make me feel much better if you stayed with me. I've missed you so much. It's been incredibly painful for both David and me.' Sherlock ran his thumbs down John's cheeks. 'Would you like to see a picture of him?'

'Sure,' John smiled softly. 'Let me call Mary first.' He gathered his trousers and grabbed his mobile, calling Mary's number.

'John! Thank god! Where are you?' she gushed out when she answered.

'Mary, I'm sorry but I'm going to have to cancel our plans for the day. This is the first time I've seen Sherlock in weeks and I'd like to spend some time with him.'

'Oh. So you're with him. Ok. Phew. I thought something may have happened. Good to know you're ok. But sure, spend time with your angel. Call me later, ok?'

'Sure thing. See ya.' He hung up and settled down beside Sherlock on the bed, smiling at him. Sherlock cuddled up to John with a content sigh. It was just him and John again and his heart felt more whole that it had done in months.

'Ready to see a picture of him?'

'Sure thing,' John grinned, grasping Sherlock's hand.

Sherlock grabbed his trousers and pulled out a wallet. He opened it and smiled as he took a picture of their son out. It was one of himself and David snuggled up together, his bee plushie snuggled between them. David was the size of a human ten year old but he looked younger, probably due to the puppy fat he hadn't lost yet. His curls were thick and wild, his skin as white as snow, his eyes a deep sea blue, his wings magnificent and almost fully grown. Despite his curls and pale skin he looked devastatingly like John. He was beautiful.

'My god,' John gasped, staring at the photo. 'He's gotten so big. And he looks so much like you.'

'No, look closer. He's all you John. He looks so much like you that sometimes it hurts.'

'I'll admit he's got my features, but he looks so much like you. He's so handsome.'

'He's a good kid,' Sherlock smiled warmly. 'I never get any trouble from him.'

'That's good,' John grinned. 'How's the flying coming along?'

'He still needs my help to fly. But he'll get there I'm sure,' Sherlock laughed. 'I think he rather unfortunately inherited your fear of flying. He's afraid of flying by himself.'

'Uh oh,' John laughed. 'That's a rather ironic fear for a boy who's part angel.'

'It's completely your fault,' Sherlock huffed. 'Passing on your phobia.'

'He should get over it when he realises how freeing flying feels,' John smiled. 'He's half of you after all. His angel DNA will kick in as soon as he flys by himself for the first time.'

'He doesn't remember you, you know?' Sherlock sighed sadly. 'Well, he does. He remembers you hurting him. He has no other memories of you though.'

'Not even of me reading to him?' John frowned, his heart breaking.

'No,' Sherlock sniffled, his lower lip wobbling. 'He doesn't remember you doing anything nice with him.'

'I... I'm so sorry,' John sniffled, passing the photo back. 'I feel absolutely terrible. I fucked things up royally.'

'Why did you bind his wings? You loved him, John. At least I thought you did.'

'They... He couldn't control them. They kept slapping me in the face. I just wanted him to be still so I could dress him,' John choked out, turning away.

'Oh,' Sherlock frowned. 'I just thought you wanted to hurt him because you hated what he represented.'

'He's my son too, Sherlock. I was the one who carried him for ten months. I love him. I would never hurt him like that. And I can't believe you could think that. Yes, I was cruel to you because I missed my family and I was mad at you for knocking me up, but I would  _never_  hurt our son.'

'I apologise for thinking that. It's just... he was screaming and terrified. Why didn't you stop?'

'I don't know,' John whispered brokenly.

'Hey. It's ok. It's not too late to change things,' Sherlock soothed softly.

'Of course it is,' John choked out. 'He doesn't remember me at all apart from the one time I tried to dress him. I've failed miserably at being a parent. I hate myself.'

'If it helps, I accidentally crushed his dreams by telling him Santa isn't real,' Sherlock joked, trying to lighten the mood.

'Really, Sherlock?' John scoffed, wiping at his tears. 'He hasn't even made it to one yet. Poor kid. What about the Tooth Fairy or the Easter Bunny?'

'Oh, well they exist. There's no dream crushing going on there,' Sherlock grinned. 'I met the Easter Bunny once. He's a nice fella. A little grumpy but that's because everyone eats his chocolate.'

'They're real?!' John exclaimed, turning over and staring at Sherlock wide-eyed.

'Of course they're real,' Sherlock scoffed. 'What are they teaching youngsters these days?'

'My parents told me they weren't real,' John frowned.

'You're parents are idiots,' Sherlock snorted.

'I know. But look at how my father was before you fixed him. He wouldn't allow me or my sister to believe in such childish things. By the time I was seven I didn't believe in Santa, the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny, and so many more.'

'It's a shame they don't give angels to children,' Sherlock frowned.

'They should,' John frowned. 'They could stop a lot of child abuse and murders.'

'I'll get my brother onto it,' Sherlock hummed. 'He practically makes the rules.'

'Good,' John grinned. 'So, what shall we do for the rest of the day? Besides make love seeing as that's a given. Wanna go out?'

'Did you ever get to fly on my back?' Sherlock frowned.

'No, but I'd love to,' John grinned brightly. 'Just a warning though, I may throw up when we land.'

'I think you'll find my flying skills quite smooth actually,' Sherlock pouted.

'It's not gonna be your fault,' John assured him. 'I have a weak stomach when it comes to fast movements. I used to get carsick a lot when I was younger. Maybe it's an inner ear thing.'

'As long as you don't get sick on my feathers it's ok. Come on. Let's go.'

'Let's get dressed first.' John rolled out of bed and put on his jeans and a fresh shirt, pulling on his shoes and a jacket. Sherlock grunted, getting to his feet and getting dressed back into his discarded clothes. John hugged Sherlock from behind, resting his cheek against his back.

'I missed you,' he whispered.

'I missed you, too,' Sherlock hummed in agreement. John hummed and closed his eyes, taking in Sherlock's warmth and the softness of his wings. They looked so much better from the last time he saw them. Healthier, shinier, softer, and thicker if that was possible.

Sherlock tilted his head back onto John's shoulder, pushing himself closer to the solidness of his warm body, breathing in his unique smell.

'Love you,' he uttered softly.

'I know,' John whispered, his hands trailing up Sherlock's chest before dropping down towards his stomach, teasing him.

Sherlock moaned pitifully. 'Don't tease me. I won't be able to fly if I've got an erection.'

'Sorry, but I  _did_  say that I missed you,' John smirked, his hands moving to Sherlock's bum and squeezing.

'You're bad, Watson. Very bad,' Sherlock groaned loudly.

'But you like it,' John purred, a hand moving to stroke along his impressive length. 'And I can take care of that if you'll let me.'

'Get on your knees,' Sherlock snapped out the order.

John's eyes snapped open and he dropped to his knees with a thud. God that had been super fucking sexy. Sherlock's voice had sounded so deep and lustful. He needed to talk like that more often.

'Now suck and be bloody quick about it!' Sherlock demanded. John whimpered and opened Sherlock's trousers, his cock springing out and slapping him in the face. He immediately opened his mouth and sucked as much as he could handle into his mouth, his hand working the rest of it.

'Make this fast, Watson. We haven't got all day!' Sherlock yelled, thrusting into John's mouth harshly. John moved faster, hollowing out his cheeks and sucking hard. His hand wanked the length he couldn't reach while the other played with Sherlock's sac.

'You're a good boy,' Sherlock cooed, his hips jerking upwards. 'Oooh. God yes! Almost there! Close!'

John moaned around Sherlock's cock and gave a sharp tug on his bollocks, letting them go to slap against him.

'Jawwn!' Sherlock screamed, throwing his head back and cumming powerfully. John spluttered as Sherlock came down his throat. He would have to get used to that again. He managed to swallow most though some did drip down his chin due to his mouth overflowing.

Sherlock groaned and collapsed onto the floor with a soft thud. 'Thank you,' he whispered, his voice rough. John grunted his reply, shuffling over to the bin to spit out what was left in his mouth.

'Sorry,' he apologised. 'I'm not used to doing that.'

'I can see that,' Sherlock smiled in amusement. 'You've been far too busy finding your way around the vagina. How's that going by the way?'

'Not too bad, actually. Though it's a lot different from your arse, I must say. Plus she doesn't like my piss kink.'

'My God!' Sherlock gasped and sniggered. 'You tried that with her?'

'Not exactly,' John flushed. 'It just sort of happened. I hadn't been in nearly eight hours and she'd started going down on me. And when I came I had to piss really badly and I kinda... pissed on her face.'

Sherlock licked his lips and moaned. 'And she didn't like that? Jesus, I'm hard merely thinking about it.'

'Save that for later. I haven't gone all day.' John winked and laughed. 'But no, she found it disgusting and jumped into the shower, leaving me to piss on my comforter.'

'I haven't gone in almost twelve hours,' Sherlock smirked. 'It took every ounce of control to not piss in your mouth.'

'Well, you have special angel powers,' John huffed. 'You could probably last all bloody day.'

'I could hold a week's worth of piss in if I wanted,' Sherlock stated proudly.

'Oh, fuck you and your special angel powers and body,' John groaned, a hand darting to his crotch to hold himself. All the piss talk was putting him on edge, and now all he could think about was how full he was and how heavy everything felt.

'Can I get you a cup of coffee, dear?' Sherlock giggled. 'Or some orange juice? Milkshake? Water? A pint of beer?'

John growled, bouncing in place. 'Stop or I'm gonna piss myself right here. And I don't want to soil my jeans.'

'Pssst,' Sherlock hissed teasingly. 'Drip, drip, drip. Hot, golden piss. Mmm.'

'Fuck you,' John groaned, his bladder spasming.

'If you insist, dear,' Sherlock growled playfully.

John moaned and rocked into his hand, trying to stop the flow. He'd been doing great until Sherlock had started talking about it. Now he had to piss so freaking bad he knew he was going to piss his jeans if he didn't take them off. But every time he tried to move his bladder spasmed and he almost pissed himself. He wasn't going to make it.

'Sherlock,' he gasped out. 'Please. Help me out of my pants. Please. I don't want to piss my jeans. Please.'

Sherlock sighed and took pity on John. He moved over to John and unzipped his trouser, pulling down John's pants too.

'There you go, dear. Piss away.'

John moaned in relief and pissed into his garbage bin, leaning against Sherlock for support.

'That's it,' Sherlock cooed. 'Piss for your angel.'

John collapsed against Sherlock when he finally finished pissing. He could feel Sherlock's erection along his back, but he didn't care. He was just happy to have the relief.

'Better?' Sherlock kissed along John's neck. 'How do you feel now? Hmm?'

'Empty,' John said breathlessly. 'But fucking fantastic. Now are we gonna go fly or what?'

'Pull up your trousers and we'll go.'

John stood and shoved himself back in his pants and zipped up his jeans, smiling down at Sherlock.

'Let's go!' he said excitedly. Sherlock grinned and hopped onto John's window ledge, opening the window wide. He knelt down for John.

'All aboard!'

John clambered onto Sherlock's back, his arms wrapping around his chest and his legs around his waist.

'Are you holding on tightly?'

'Yep,' John said, squeezing his limbs around Sherlock tight.

'Don't let go.' Sherlock laughed and swooped off and up into the sky. John shrieked and pressed himself closer to Sherlock, holding onto him tight as they soared into the sky. He could feel the wind whipping through his hair and jacket, the cold air biting at his face. Sherlock twisted and turned in the sky. It felt good to be flying after such a long time of not being able to. He laughed and whooped for joy, soaring higher and higher.

'Sherlock!' John cried, his head spinning. 'Slow down! You have a passenger, remember?'

'Whoops!' Sherlock forced himself to slow down. 'Got carried away. Sorry!'

'Thanks,' John groaned, pressing his forehead between Sherlock's shoulder blades. 'Though I'm quite nauseous already. Can we find a grassy area to land so I can vomit without embarrassing myself in front of people?'

Sherlock flew down to the ground, landing in a field. 'Here you go,' he said softly. John slid off Sherlock and landed on his hands and knees, his stomach emptying itself as soon as he hit the grass.

'I apologise,' Sherlock frowned. 'I haven't flown in a long while. I'm not usually that eager.'

'Why don't you go get that out of your system while my stomach settles?' John groaned, sitting back on his haunches. 'That way I won't get so sick when we fly home.'

'Alright.' Sherlock stood tall, his wings stretching out wide. He took a deep breath and flew up into the sky. John moved away from his vomit and lied back in the grass, watching soar in the sky far above him, his occasional whoops of joy echoing across the field.

Sherlock flew for what felt like hours. Once he was satisfied that he'd gotten his flying quota for the day he swooped down and curled up by a now sleeping John. John curled into the warmth now settled next to him. He hummed and nuzzled the warm chest, his hand grasping lightly at the fabric of the shirt.

'I know you don't think I know what love is, and that you doubt that what I feel for you is the real deal because I'm an angel so I have no idea of what love is supposed to feel like, but I do love you. I'd fall for you. That's love, right?'

John hummed and wrinkled his nose, pressing closer to the warm body. Sherlock sighed and kissed John's head.

'In fact, I'd fall for you right now. I've thought about it on a daily basis.'

'No,' John mumbled in his sleep. 'Dun do that. Fly.'

'But I want to because then I'd practically be human and you wouldn't have to keep me as your dirty little secret anymore.'

'No,' John protested, shaking his head. 'Need mai angel. Dun wan ya t' fall. Fly, Lock. Fly.'

'No. I want to fall. I am going to fall. End of story.'

'No!' John cried, waking up fully. 'No! You can't do that! You'll endanger David! You'll endanger your brother! You can't do that to us!'

'Shhh. It's ok. I won't do that. I was being ridiculous.'

'Don't say things like that,' John choked out, clutching tight to Sherlock's chest. 'I don't want you to fall. With David in the picture, we could all be killed. And I don't want you to die. And I'd rather not die again. Not so soon anyway.'

'They wouldn't have to find out about David. I'm not stupid. I just... It would make things so much easier.'

'Sherlock, if you blabbed about our relationship, of course they'd find out about David. He wouldn't be safe. Neither would your brother and his human. Didn't they get married?'

Sherlock grunted and nodded. 'Answer me this, ok? If I were human, would things be different between us?'

'Don't hate me for this, but probably, yes,' John answered softly. 'I still would have been scared and apprehensive of our relationship, but I probably wouldn't have been as cruel to you as I had been.'

'And this.' Sherlock kissed John. 'You wouldn't have minded doing some of that in public. I wouldn't be your dirty, little secret.'

'No, I definitely wouldn't mind a little public snogging,' John smirked, flushing slightly. 'It would definitely be easier if you were human, but I never asked for easy. My entire life has never been easy. Why should it start now? Besides, I like you just the way you are. I wouldn't change anything about or relationship, other than being able to be seen in public without being scorned, of course. But I like you exactly the way you are. No regrets.'

'I could quite easily hide my wings,' Sherlock said softly. 'Pretend to be human. Maybe we could have a normal date without fear of being caught.'

'I would like that, actually,' John grinned, moving close to snuggle against Sherlock. 'What do you say? We go out for dinner tomorrow and you can pretend to be human for a few hours?'

Sherlock hummed and dragged John onto his chest, hugging him close. 'I can be human for you. You deserve a normal date with me.'

'I think it could be fun,' John grinned. 'We should go somewhere further away from my home though. That way no one will recognise you as my angel and get us in trouble.'

'We'll go to that Italian place on the other side of town. I've heard it's a nice place to eat.'

'Mmm. Sounds good.' John let out a small laugh. 'Even after all that Italian food during my pregnancy I still love the stuff. I thought I wouldn't have been able to stand it after eating so much of it.'

'David loves Italian food,' Sherlock grinned. 'Gets that from you I suppose.'

'Any cravings for ice cream and pissing his pants?' John smirked.

Sherlock snorted. 'Dear lord no. Though he does enjoy the occasional ice lolly.'

'He sounds like a great kid,' John said softly, lying back down in the grass. 'I'm sorry I wasn't a part of his life, but, in my defence, I thought you were dead.'

'And in  _my_  defence, I wanted nothing to do with you for a long while because you tried to kill me.'

'Your brother  _did_  kill me,' John whispered, frozen to the spot. 'I remember what it felt like. He snapped my neck. It was... freeing.'

'My brother was just afraid. Imagine bringing someone up like a son for thousands of years, only to have someone try to take that away from you.' Sherlock's eyes glazed over. 'Death may be freeing, but it doesn't stay that way for long. You either get herded like sheep and cattle upstairs, or you get shoved downstairs.'

'I was caught in the middle. Never made it anywhere. Purgatory, right?'

'Yeah, purgatory. Not quite heaven, not quite hell.'

'It felt like an out of body experience. I was dead and then brought back to life.'

'And I stopped him from killing you again.' Sherlock hugged John extra tight.

'You did, yes. Though at the time, I would have been happier dead.'

'I know. I suppose I was just doing my duty to you.'

'Thank you,' John whispered softly. 'I'm so sorry for how I treated you. I was angry and alone and I was taking it out on you. And I'm so sorry.'

'You're not alone though,' Sherlock whispered back. 'You've got me. You'll always have me.'

'Thank you,' John whispered, settling against Sherlock's chest. 'That means a lot, even if it  _is_  your job to be by my side.'

'I don't  _have_  to,' Sherlock huffed. 'I simply choose to.'

'So... You could abandon me if you so chose?'

'I'd get in trouble for it, but I could very well do so, yes.'

'So you really could just up and leave? Just like everyone else,' John choked out, his bottom lip trembling.

'But I won't because I love you, but ultimately you're my friend,' Sherlock reassured him softly.

'You're my friend too, Sherlock. My best friend.'

Sherlock blinked and swallowed. 'Your... best friend?'

'Yeah. My best friend.'

Sherlock grinned ecstatically. 'Really though?'

John smiled softly and held Sherlock's face tenderly in his hands. 'Sherlock, of the few friends I have, and I have very few, you are the best one I have. You, Sherlock Holmes, are my best friend in the entire world.'

Sherlock swept John into a bone crushing hug. 'Thank you, John. You're my very best friend too.'

'Easy there! I can't breathe!' John gasped.

'Sorry.' Sherlock pulled away, grinning like an idiot.

'It's fine,' John said softly, snuggling close. 'You  _are_  my best friend, Sherlock. You really and truly are.'

'Whatever happens between us, promise me that we'll still be good friends.'

'Of course. You're one of the few people who I'll always consider a friend.'

'Not sure friends do this though,' Sherlock smirked, pulling John into a deep kiss.

 _Sure they do,_  John thought, moaning into the kiss.  _Friends with benefits, or couples who started out as friends._

'Is that what we are?' Sherlock mumbled against John's lips. 'Friends with benefits?'

'Perhaps,' John mumbled, pulling back slightly. 'I don't know what else to call us, seeing as we aren't technically a couple. Come to think of it, neither are Mary and I. She's my lone support group. Though we do occasionally try to have sex.'

'Try,' Sherlock giggled softly. 'You're not particularly successful with her. It's amusing to say the least.'

'Oh shut up,' John sighed, shoving Sherlock playfully. 'I feel sorry for her though. She's had a crush on me for a while and now I can't even get it up unless I'm thinking of you. You've ruined me for other sexual partners.'

'I am sorry, dear. It's hardly my fault that your body craves me now though, is it?'

'No, it's completely your fault. You and your cheekbones and your eyes and those lips and... and...' John trailed off and ravaged those plump lips, kissing Sherlock hard.

'Mmmf!' Sherlock smirked against John's lips. 'What were you saying?'

'Just shut up and kiss me,' John moaned, kissing Sherlock passionately, his tongue delving inside and tasting his angel all over again. Sherlock groaned and clambered on top of John, gently rocking above him. John moaned and whimpered, opening his legs so Sherlock fit comfortably between them.

'You're mine,' Sherlock growled. 'And only mine. Need I remind you of that?'

'Yes,' John moaned. 'Remind me that I'm yours. Take me. Claim me. Mark me.'

Sherlock growled and lunged forward, nipping John's neck with a vengeance. John gasped and moaned, his neck arching back and his eyes slipping shut as Sherlock laid his claim over him.

'You are mine! Only mine! Don't you dare let anyone claim you other than me!' Sherlock sunk his teeth in deeper to John's neck, sucking a bright red mark there.

'Yes! Yours! Only yours! No one else's!' John cried, his body trembling from the intensity of the situation.

'I'm going to fuck you so hard that you won't be able to sit down for a week!'

'God yes! Do it, do it, do it!' John cried, already working on getting his trousers off. Sherlock sucked on his fingers with a loud slurp.

'You're mine,' he reiterated, swirling a finger around John's entrance.

'Yes, Sherlock,' John gasped out as Sherlock pushed in. 'Yours. All yours.'

Sherlock grinned, bending his finger and finding John's prostate with ease. He laughed and stroked the bundle of nerves.

'Oh! Oh my god!' John gasped, ripping up blades of grass when he tried to clench his fists tight. 'Oh fuck!'

Sherlock laughed and added a second finger, brushing John's prostate more insistently.

'Oh shit. Sherlock, you're gonna make me cum without even touching me,' John groaned, his cock hot and heavy against his belly, throbbing with need.

'Don't you dare!' Sherlock growled, adding a third finger.

'Sherlock!' John cried, his body lurching as his cock threatening to cum. 'Oh god! Hurry! I'm on the edge already!'

Sherlock replaced his fingers with his cock and pushed in with a loud groan.

'Ooooooh fuuuuuuuck!' John groaned loudly, his entire body tensing as he was entered for the first time in months. Sherlock groaned and began to pound himself into John, making good on his promise to leave John's arse useless. John gasped sharply and cried out, his fingers digging into the dirt as Sherlock made hard love to him.

'Who do you belong to?!' Sherlock screamed, moving faster.

'You!' John cried, his body jolting with each harsh thrust.

'Say that again! Louder! Who owns you?!' Sherlock rocked faster, grass and dirt flying everywhere as he slammed into John with no mercy.

'Fuck! You do!' John screamed. 'Sherlock Holmes owns me!'

'Yes! I own you!' Sherlock cried out, cumming long and hard.

'Sherlock!' John screamed as he finally came, his cock spurting thick, angry strips of cum along his and Sherlock's chests.

'You belong to me!' Sherlock sang at the top of his lungs, collapsing on top of John with a wet splat.

'Taylor Swift?' John gasped out breathlessly. 'You know... Taylor Swift?'

'Hell yes,' Sherlock giggled. 'I love her music.'

'I never would have pegged you for a Taylor Swift fan,' John laughed. 'I would have thought you'd like hard rock stuff. I don't know why, but you just seemed the type to me.'

'I like a variety of music. I love screamo music. Black Veil Brides? Yeah. I love them.'

'I'm partial to Falling in Reverse myself,' John grinned. 'And Metallica. I love them.'

'Are you a bad boy rocker under your goody two shoes persona?' Sherlock smirked.

'Maybe,' John smirked. 'I'll have to show you my special outfit. I only wear it on Friday the Thirteenth.'

'Oh dear lord,' Sherlock moaned. 'I need to see that!'

'I can put it on specially for you,' John winked. 'So how about we go home and sleep, then I can dress up for you?'

'Sounds good to me,' Sherlock purred.

'Let's go home,' John yawned. 'I'm tired.'

Sherlock hummed in agreement and transported them both back to John's room. John took off the rest of his clothes and crawled into bed, beckoning Sherlock to join him.

Sherlock stripped from his clothes and crawled into bed next to John. 'Mmm. Love you.'

John hummed and lay on Sherlock's chest, hugging him gently. 'Love you too,' he mumbled, already half asleep.

'I've missed you terribly,' Sherlock mumbled sleepily, eyes closing.

'Same,' John mumbled as he fell asleep, Sherlock's heartbeat lulling him to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it looks like John and Sherlock have sorted things out. Granted, things are never perfect in a relationship like theirs, but they're trying to make things work. This relationship will never be perfect, and John will always either over-romanticize everything or have violent outbursts when he's extremely pissed off about something (much like he does on the show). Just know that if you're looking for fluff and perfect and happyhappyhappy, you won't find it here. This is not that kind of story. I write the fluffy stories on my own, but when I write with MJCF we delve deep and things get dark. MJCF also writes hilarious cracky stories on her AO3 page, so if you want a good laugh go read some of her stuff.
> 
> Also, the next chapter will be posted on Saturday as I'll be at work basically all day and I'm allowed to have my laptop to do more personal work or to watch Netflix so I don't get too bored. Anyway, next chapter will be up sometime Saturday morning/afternoon.
> 
> Until next time!
> 
> ~TSA + IB


	29. First Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Good afternoon. As promised, here is the next chapter. Granted, I didn't get it out as soon as I wanted, but at least it's been posted.
> 
> This story will be going on a brief hiatus soon unfortunately. I only have 36 chapters typed up and saved for posting and this is chapter 29. There is so much more saved in my email account that I haven't transferred over to a word document yet. Like, a year's worth of writing. Ugh. I'm so far behind. This is awful. So the story will have to be put on hold while I get the new chapters organized and ready for posting. I apologize greatly for the inconvenience. I'm so sorry.
> 
> MJCF: Sherlock  
> Me: John, Mary, John's Mum
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: jealous!Sherlock, emotional!Sherlock, first date fluff and flirting, public sex, restroom sex, watersports (look away if you don't like squick), drunk!Sherlock and drunk!John, a bit of heartbreak, nonsexual pissing, more heartbreak.

_Sherlock sighed happily and followed John into his dream. John crawled into Sherlock's lap and curled up against him, taking in his scent and warmth._

_'I really missed you,' he said quietly. 'Really. Between you and Mary there's no contest. You win.'_

_'Then why did you set up up the competition in the first place?'_

_'I didn't. Mary asked me out, I said yes. Then I thought you were dead so I turned to her for comfort.'_

_Sherlock frowned. 'I don't like her one little bit.'_

_'I know. You're jealous. But she's a good friend to me. Not my best friend though. That's you.'_

_'I know,' Sherlock sighed softly. 'She just puts me on edge is all.'_

_'Is there anything in particular you don't like about her? Or do you just not like her because she's close to me?'_

_'I don't know,' Sherlock groaned. 'I just hate her so much.'_

_'I'm gonna chalk this one up to jealousy,' John said softly, shifting on Sherlock's lap to make himself more comfortable. 'Just put her out of your mind. You've got me now and she hasn't. I'm all yours.'_

_'I am not jealous!' Sherlock huffed, turning his head to the side and sulking._

_'Yes you are,' John giggled, cuddling closer to his angel. 'But you have no reason to be. Not anymore. I'm yours. She and I weren't even really dating. Just sort of a one person support group. And the sexual things were just awkward.'_

_'Then you'll stop,' Sherlock pleaded softly. 'You'll be with me, not her.'_

_'I am with you,' John said softly, cupping Sherlock's chin in his hand. 'Look at me and where I am. Am I with her? No. I'm with you. So just relax and let's catch up or something. Maybe we can fly around for a bit. Does that sound good? Because I'd rather save the love making for real life right now.'_

_'Yeah,' Sherlock grinned giddily, his eyes trained solely on John. 'Let's fly. Together.'_

_John grinned and stood up, pulling Sherlock up with him. He closed his eyes and imagined himself with a pair of soft, brown wings. He opened his eyes and smiled at Sherlock, their wings opening and touching each other in a soft gesture._

_'It's funny, your dream wings are the spitting image of David's,' Sherlock mused, reaching out and stroking a soft, brown feather._

_'Really?' He turned to glance at one of them and smiled. 'Yeah, they do look like his. Weird.'_

_'Perhaps he somehow... absorbed your thoughts. I don't know. That's ridiculous, isn't it?'_

_'Or maybe he got the wings from your side of the family and I'm just mimicking them due to our connection?'_

_Sherlock shrugged. 'I don't really know much about my family. Well, actually I think he may have gotten his wings from my mother. They're the spitting image of her wings.'_

_'Oh.' John looked at his wings again. 'Well, if that's so, your mother had gorgeous wings.' He turned back to Sherlock and smiled._

_'She did, yes,' Sherlock whispered softly. 'That is until they were torn off her back by my father.'_

_John's wings disappeared at the mental image, his face falling and the blood draining from it. That was not what he was expecting at all. He sat down in the grass and held his face in his hands, and he could swear he felt blood trickling down his back from the loss of his wings._

_'I'm sorry, John,' Sherlock croaked out, a few tears running down his cheeks. 'I didn't mean to push that image onto you.'_

_'Just get down here and make it better,' John choked out, rocking back and forth now._

_Sherlock dropped to the ground and crawled next John. 'She was a good woman. I loved her very much.'_

_'How long did you know her?' John asked softly, falling into Sherlock's lap._

_'Long enough to love her, and to know how truly great she was,' Sherlock sniffled, tugging John close to him._

_'She was your mum. Of course you loved her.' John relaxed into Sherlock's lap and sighed, closing his eyes when Sherlock began to pet his hair softly. 'If you ever want to talk to my mum about personal things go ahead. Sometimes you just need to talk to a mum, you know?'_

_Sherlock smiled and shook his head. 'I can't burden your mum like that.'_

_'You should find someone to talk to then. Someone you trust. But do feel free to talk to my mum anytime. She really likes you.'_

_'Yeah... not sure how much she'd like me if she knew I've been shagging your brains out.'_

_'Well you don't have to tell her that,' John sighed, flushing slightly._

_'I know,' Sherlock hummed softly. 'I just don't feel comfortable being all chummy with your mother whilst hoarding such a big secret.'_

_'Then you don't have to talk to her. It's fine. It was just an idea.'_

_Sherlock sighed and nodded. 'I'm not in the mood to fly now.'_

_'I just want to cuddle now,' John agreed, settling them on a plush bed and curling up against Sherlock's chest._

_Sherlock cuddled John securely in his arms and sniffled. 'Really need to cry right now, and I don't know why.'_

_'Go ahead. I won't judge. Crying is a good release of emotion. Healthy even. So go ahead. Don't bottle it in.' John smoothed a hand down Sherlock's cheek and gave him a small smile._

_Sherlock buried his head in John's chest and began to sob quietly. 'Fucking emotions.'_

_'It's alright, Sherlock,' John said softly, petting his hair soothingly. 'It's ok. Just get it out. I'm here for you.'_

_Sherlock's entire body trembled, his wings included. 'I miss her!' he wailed loudly._

_'Your mum?' John guessed, holding Sherlock close as he cried. Sherlock nodded and let out another loud wail._

_'It'll be ok, love,' John whispered softly, pressing tender kisses to the top of Sherlock's head. 'It'll be ok. I'm here. I'm here. And I won't ever leave you again.'_

_'P-p-promise?' Sherlock stammered out._

_'Promise,' John whispered by Sherlock's ear, pressing a kiss just below it._

_Sherlock sighed softly, a smile tugging at his lips. 'Stay with me forever and ever?'_

_'We're already bonded. I'm pretty sure I'll be staying with you for all eternity.'_

_'It won't stay that way though! You'll find a pretty model and you'll marry, and your children will call me Uncle Sherlock.'_

_'Sherlock, I already have a child. Yours. Look at me. I'm yours, utterly and completely. You saw me with Mary. I was unresponsive and she was all over me. But as soon as you entered the room I was emotional and responsive. There isn't anyone other than you.'_

_Sherlock looked at John and sniffled. 'You won't be happy with me in a few years time. I can't give you much. All I can give you is my heart.'_

_'You gave me David,' John said softly, cradling Sherlock's face in his hands. 'Our little miracle, considering how he came into the world. I should be the one saying I can't give you much. I mean... I don't even really know what I'm feeling for you. I... I think I love you, but I'm really not sure. I've never been in love before, and I didn't exactly have the best parental relationship to be a judge on love and shit like that. So I'm just really lost and confused. I literally don't know what I can give you, and I'm sorry. You deserve more.'_

_'What do you feel? Does your heart go into overdrive when you think about me? Am I the person who makes you happy? Who causes you to smile and to laugh about the randomest of things? How did you feel when you thought I'd died? Like your whole world had ended? Like everything had just come to a stop because I wasn't breathing anymore? Because as far as I'm concerned that's love, John.'_

_'Yes,' John said breathlessly, his throat closing up a bit. 'Yes, you make me feel all that. And when I thought I'd killed you... I felt so guilty, Sherlock. Like I'd killed my only shot at happiness in the world. I... I love you.'_

_Sherlock moved to kiss John slowly and sensually. 'I love you with all my heart and soul. If you died I'd follow you into the dark without a second thought.'_

_'Me too,' John whispered. 'Though the only reason I didn't this time was because I was holding out the hope that you were ok. That somehow, some way, you were alright. And I was right. You're alive, and I'm yours and you're mine.'_

_'Mmm. Mine. You're all mine,' Sherlock hummed, going in for another kiss._

_'Yes,' John moaned, kissing Sherlock deeply. 'Yours. All yours.'_

_'Wanna wake up and celebrate? Have that date of ours and maybe go clubbing afterwards?'_

_'Sure,' John grinned. 'See ya in a second.'_

Sherlock awoke with a stupid grin plastered across his face. 'Hello gorgeous.'

'Don't talk about yourself in the third person,' John joked, yawning and rubbing his eyes free of sleep.

'Sorry, my mistake. My name isn't John Watson, is it?' Sherlock chuckled fondly.

'No. It's mine,' John smirked. He pulled Sherlock in for a kiss and hummed. 'I love you.'

'God, say that again,' Sherlock gasped out. 'I need to keep on hearing it to believe it.'

'I love you,' John whispered against Sherlock's mouth. 'I love you, I love you, I love you.'

'I love you too,' Sherlock laughed joyously. 'Now let's get dressed and go out.'

John grinned and got up to get dressed, putting on his tightest jeans and his favourite red shirt. When he found his shoes he looked over to Sherlock and smiled.

'I've still got those shirts I bought for you over in Italy. Wear one tonight?'

'Yeah, ok,' Sherlock grinned, struggling into a pair of tight dress trousers. 'I need something to cover my wings too.'

'I think one of my father's old blazers would fit you.' John grabbed the purple shirt and one of his father's oversized blazers. 'They're too big for my scrawny frame, so they should be able to hide your wings pretty decently. If you were to, you know, fold them up against your back or whatnot.'

'I'll need you to bind them together otherwise they'll try to flap their way out.'

'Are you sure you want me to after what happened with David?' John asked quietly, avoiding looking at Sherlock's eyes.

Sherlock swallowed thickly. 'Please, just do it before I change my mind about all this.'

'Ok. What do I need?' John asked as he helped Sherlock slip his wings through the slits in the shirt.

'Get some tape and rope. That ought to do it.'

'Ok. Be right back.' He pecked Sherlock on the lips and dashed out to the backyard, grabbing some rope and hardcore masking tape from his father's work station. He came back and closed and locked his door behind him, Sherlock sitting on his bed.

Sherlock closed his eyes and bowed his head, taking deep breaths to try to calm himself. 'Can we just do this, please?'

'Yeah. Come here,' John said quietly, rolling out the rope. Sherlock shuffled closer to John, his breath coming out in sharp spurts. John took in deep breaths as he bound Sherlock's wings, making sure to be extra careful so as not to upset the feathers or Sherlock himself. Sherlock whined softly. He really didn't like the feeling of having his wings bound so tightly.

John sighed loudly when he finished, helping Sherlock into the jacket. 'Do you feel ok?' he asked softly.

'Not really, no,' Sherlock squeaked.

'I'm sorry,' John whispered softly. 'I really am. I... If it makes you feel better you actually look rather dashing in that jacket. Sorry, that was stupid to say.'

'Not stupid, no.' Sherlock rolled his shoulders in a circular motion to try to get himself comfortable. 'I'm going to give you one night of being in a normal relationship. You deserve it.'

'Ok.' John swallowed and forced himself to look up at Sherlock. 'Shall I call us a cab? How normal do you want this date to be?'

'As normal as possible. Is getting a cab normal?'

'Completely normal,' John grinned. 'How about we walk downtown and try to flag one down? There's nothing more normal then trying to flag down a cab at night.'

'Alrighty then!' Sherlock stood, rubbing his hands together eagerly. 'Let's go!'

John rolled his eyes and clasped Sherlock's hand, leading him downstairs and out of the house. Once they made it to the main road he huddled closer to Sherlock, his head resting on his arm.

'How on Earth do you summon a cab?' Sherlock asked John, placing a kiss on his mop of hair.

'Whistle really loudly or raise your hand and shout "Taxi!"'

Sherlock brought his fingers to his lips and whistled as loud as he could, summoning a taxi instantly.

'Great job, love,' John grinned. 'Not bad for your first time.'

'Come on, dear,' Sherlock grinned back, dragging John into the cab. John laughed and sat next to Sherlock, taking hold of his hand again.

'So, what restaurant are we going to?' he asked.

'There's an Italian restaurant that I think you're gonna love.' Sherlock smirked knowingly at John and handed the taxi driver their destination on a piece of paper.

'More surprises?' John smirked as the cabbie took off.

'That's how I like it,' Sherlock chuckled, leaning in and kissing John sensually. John hummed and kissed Sherlock back, only pulling away when the cabbie gave an awkward cough. John merely rolled his eyes and placed his hand on Sherlock's thigh, resting his head on his angel's shoulder.

'I love you,' Sherlock whispered lovingly, nuzzling John's head lightly. 'I only hope I can show you a good  _normal_  time tonight.'

'I love you too,' John whispered back, grinning like an idiot. 'And I'm sure we'll have a wonderfully normal time tonight. Try not to worry. Just relax and go with the flow. And you can ask me any questions throughout the night about what it means to be–' He glanced at the cabbie before saying in a very quiet whisper, 'human.'

'Ah yes, I've always wondered...' Sherlock trailed off, noting the cabbie watching him suspiciously. 'I'll ask you later. I think we're almost there anyway.'

'I'll answer any and all questions you have,' John promised.

'Mmm. Thank you,' Sherlock hummed, pulling John into another kiss. John grinned into the kiss and squeezed Sherlock's thigh gently. Sherlock groaned and deepened the kiss, grabbing a fistful of John's hair. John flushed and pulled away, squeezing Sherlock's thigh apologetically.

'Not here, love,' he whispered. 'We can do that in private.'

'Sorry,' Sherlock apologised, flushing a deep red. 'I have no self control when it comes to you.'

'You'll have to learn to curb that enthusiasm whilst we're in public,' John snorted. 'Sorry,' he said to the cabbie.

'Not when we're clubbing after the date,' Sherlock grinned. 'We can practice our snogging then.'

'That's a place where you'll be allowed to snog me in public,' John grinned. 'It's normal to spot multiple couples snogging in a club.'

'Mmm. By then we'll be truly wankered. Well, you will. It takes a lot to get me drunk.'

'I don't wanna get pissed though,' John frowned. 'My father was a drunk for a long time and I don't want to be like him.'

Sherlock sighed softly. 'Getting drunk once doesn't make you an alcoholic. Besides, I'm going to try to get pissed. Don't let me be alone in this.'

'Just drink more than me and quicker. I can't really hold my alcohol very well, so I tend to get pissed pretty quickly.'

The can stopped outside a small restaurant and the cabbie glanced back at them. John reached into his pocket for his wallet and pulled out the fare plus a little extra for having to put up with their snogging.

'Have a nice night,' the man said as they exited the cab.

'You too,' John said politely, taking Sherlock's hand again as the cab drove off to find its next fare. John turned to Sherlock and smiled. 'What is this place?'

'You'll see,' Sherlock smirked, leading John into the empty Italian restaurant. 'I booked the whole place to ourselves. You like?'

'Very extravagant for a first date,' John grinned, sitting down in the chair Sherlock offered him. 'Yes, I do like it. Thank you.'

Sherlock shuffled John underneath the table and moved to sit opposite him. 'Glad you like it.'

'Now are you going to tell me where we are?' John asked, linking his hands under his chin and blinking rapidly at Sherlock.

'Angelo's,' Sherlock smirked. 'I think you'll love it here.'

'I think I will too,' John grinned. The owner himself came out to take their orders, John asking for water and a glass of red wine to start. Two menus were given to them.

'What do you fancy, dear?'

John studied his menu for a few minutes, sipping his wine occasionally.

'The chicken Alfredo sounds delicious. I'll have a large order of that with a Caesar salad please.'

'I'll have the same please,' Sherlock told the waiter. The waiter nodded and left.

'Not bad for a first date,' John grinned, taking a drink of water to offset the wine he'd drunk. He didn't want to get tipsy off wine. Especially on an empty stomach.

'I tried my best, dear,' Sherlock smiled softly at John. He took a big sip of his wine, determined to get thoroughly pissed by the end of the night.

'I think you're doing a great job so far,' John grinned. 'So, what were you going to ask me in the cab?'

'Just... What is it like to be human? I've always wondered.'

'I dunno,' John shrugged. 'I mean, it's kinda boring but it's kinda exciting, ya know? Like, we can travel the deserts and oceans and delve into the sea or up into the sky... And yet we can sit in front of the telly and eat crap food and drink beer all day. I don't have a lot of experiences with adventures. I mean, is there anything specific you've been wondering about? Being human is such a broad spectrum, you know?'

Sherlock shrugged and peered closely at John. 'There's nothing in particular that I want to know. I suppose I'm just curious about your species as a whole. You're funny creatures. You amaze me. Your stupidity knows no bounds.'

John frowned and scowled. 'Thanks a lot,' he scoffed. 'Like your species is so superior. You angels can be idiots too ya know. For being so smart you can be really stupid.'

Sherlock mimicked John's scowl but only started laughing. It started off as a giggle and then turned into hysterical laughter. 'I'm sorry,' he wheezed out. 'It's just adorable when you're cross with me.'

'I am not adorable,' John pouted, viciously stabbing a hunk of his salad onto his fork when it arrived.

'But you are,' Sherlock cooed, his laughter dying down. He poured himself another glass of wine and swallowed it down in one swift gulp.

'Am not,' John smirked, sticking out his tongue.

Sherlock smirked and bopped John on the nose. 'You're as cute as a widdle hedgehog. I just wanna pop you in my pocket.' He took a big bite of his food and hummed. It was absolutely delicious.

'A hedgehog?' John raised a quizzical eyebrow and took a few sips of his wine. 'That's new.'

'Yes. A little hedgehog. That's what you remind me of.' Sherlock smiled softly, eating more of his food before pouring a third glass of wine. 'Ah, we should probably order more wine.'

'How many glasses have you had?' John asked, eating more of his salad.

Sherlock shrugged. 'Three I think. Meh. It'll take about ten bottles of wine, twenty shots, and six pints of lager for me to get drunk.'

'It takes that much to get you drunk?' John asked incredulously. 'Or is that all the same amount just different percentages of alcohol equalling the same thing?'

'Nope. It takes me that much to get drunk. I believe you, however, are only on your first glass of wine and yet you're starting to feel the heat of the alcohol.' Sherlock reached out and placed a hand on John's slightly flushed cheek.

'I told you I can't hold my alcohol,' John pouted, leaning into Sherlock's touch. 'I hate being a lightweight.'

'I hate being  _able_  to hold alcohol,' Sherlock huffed. 'It's frustrating not being able to get drunk easily.'

'You don't think, since we're bonded, we could share our tolerance for alcohol?' John whispered, making sure the waiter didn't overheat. 'I mean, that way I could hold more and you wouldn't have to drink so much to get drunk. Does our bond work like that?'

Sherlock hummed and cocked his head, his brow furrowed in deep thought. 'I suppose I could try that, yes.' Sherlock closed his eyes, trying to share their alcohol tolerances with each other. John watched as a soft light emanated through Sherlock's arm and to his fingertips, warming his cheek while also cooling it down. He suddenly couldn't feel that glass of wine he'd had and his head felt clearer. Had it worked? Sherlock pulled back, his eyes slightly glazed over with alcohol, his cheeks flushed a rosy red color. He laughed softly.

'I think,' he hiccupped, 'it worked rather too well.'

'Oh god, Sherlock,' John groaned. 'You gave me too much tolerance. And I want to get drunk on my celebration of my birthday date with you. Take some back. Please?'

Sherlock leaned in and placed a sloppy kiss on John's lips, changing their tolerances once more. John hummed into the kiss and felt some of his tolerance ebb away, leaving his cheeks a dusty pink from his alcohol consumption. He leaned back and grinned goofily at Sherlock.

'Feel better now?'

'Mmm,' Sherlock hummed. 'I only feel a little tipsy now. How about you?'

'Same,' John grinned. 'Your cheeks look a little pink. I like it. Makes you look all rosy.'

'I feel all warm and fuzzy,' Sherlock laughed. 'Like I'm as light as air.'

'Maybe you should slow down on the drinking now. You don't know your tolerance level anymore. And I don't want you to get drunk off wine. Save the getting pissed for the hard liquors at the club.'

'K,' Sherlock grinned. 'Can't believe we're gonna get pissed together. The notion seems almost laughable.'

'It certainly does,' John laughed. He raised his glass of wine in a toast. 'To getting pissed.'

'T' getting pissed.' Sherlock raised his glass up to John's, the glasses clinking together. 'And t' many nights like this to come.'

'Yes, to many more dates,' John grinned. 'I love you.'

'I love you too,' Sherlock pulled John into a fiery kiss, groping him underneath the table. John gasped and moaned into the kiss, spreading his knees wide so he could rut against Sherlock's hand.

Sherlock gasped for breath after a few minutes and pulled away. 'I think we need to get to a club now. I can't control myself for much longer.'

'Let me finish my dinner first,' John panted breathlessly. 'I'm almost done.'

'Hurry up then,' Sherlock groaned. 'I need you so badly.'

'And you'll have me in a moment,' John smirked, taking another sip of wine before finishing his pasta. All the while he palmed Sherlock beneath the table, squeezing occasionally to keep him occupied whilst he ate. Sherlock moaned and rutted into John's touch, his skin flushing with arousal as well as the alcohol he had consumed.

'Stop being such a bloody tease,' he hissed.

'No,' John smirked, chewing his last bite slowly. 'I rather like seeing you like this.'

'Why?' Sherlock shifted his seat, groaning. 'Is this a human thing?'

'Oh yes,' John smirked, finishing his wine. 'Very human. We're such bloody teases. Now finish your wine and you can have me.'

Sherlock poured the rest of the wine into his glass and swallowed it in one gulp. 'We sh' go. Get pissed good n' proper.'

'Yes, but don't you want me first?' John purred, rubbing his hand along Sherlock's clothed cock. 'Because I'm up for a fuck right about now. Remind me who I belong to.'

'Not in here!' Sherlock moaned. 'Can't I take ya t' a club n fuck ya there?'

'Can you last that long?' John purred, cupping Sherlock's bollocks through his tight trousers and squeezing.

'John,' Sherlock scolded, a small frown burrowing his brow. 'I am not gonna shag you here. Stop it. Let's go t' a club. Please?'

'Well I didn't mean right here where we're sitting,' John scoffed, rolling his eyes. 'I was talking about going into the loo. Unless we're going to a sex club. If so, then by all means, take us there so we can fuck legally.'

'Huh? Since when did we do things legally?' Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

'You want to have a normal, human evening, right? Oh, what am I saying. We humans are liars, cheats, and bums. We can't do anything legally. Now take me to the club and fuck me in a bathroom stall or something. Please. I need your cock inside me.'

'Yes! God yes!' Sherlock shot to his feet and tottered over to the restaurant owner, paying the bill and hurrying back to John. 'Come on, dear!'

'Coming my love!' John laughed, taking his hand and allowing Sherlock to drag him all the way to the club.

'In the toilet! Now!' Sherlock yelled as they entered the club, shoving him forwards.

John laughed loudly and winked at a few people, cocky for the first time in a long time. Yes, that gorgeous specimen was his, and yes, they were about to go fuck in the loo. Jealous?

'Need ya! Now!' Sherlock pushed John into the men's loo, his mouth already on John's in a hot kiss. John stumbled backward until he found a loo door and pushed it open, closing it behind them. He kissed Sherlock with a fiery passion, moaning and whimpering under his influence.

'Take me!' he cried. 'Take me now!'

'Turn around!' Sherlock ordered, his voice deep and gravelly and pure sex. John shuddered and did as Sherlock asked, beacon his arms against the wall and spreading his legs apart as if he was going to be frisked by a cop. Sherlock tore John's trousers and pants down, growling down his ear. He pulled down his own trousers and pants and pushed his fingers into John's mouth.

'Suck.'

John sucked the offered fingers into his mouth greedily, coating them generously with his saliva, whimpering and moaning in anticipation.

Sherlock drew his fingers back and slid them down John's body. 'Where d' ya wan my fingers?' he said teasingly.

'Up my arse,' John moaned, wriggling it teasingly.

'Do you now?' Sherlock purred, his fingers swirling around John's tight entrance. 'How badly do you want them?'

'Bad,' John whimpered. 'I always want you, Sherlock. This time is no different.'

Sherlock didn't need any more convincing. He plunged one slick finger into John and curled it.

'Oh god! More!' John cried, pressing his forehead against the door and gasping loudly. Sherlock grinned and added a second finger. He stretched John nice and wide before adding a third finger.

'I want you! I need you!'

'Yes! Take me! Take me now!' John cried.

Sherlock removed his fingers from John and quickly replaced them with his cock. He pushed himself all the way in and shoved John closer to the cubicle wall. He started thrusting into John at a leisurely pace but as he continued to thrust he was hit by a wave of eagerness. He moved faster and far more harshly, causing the whole cubicle to shake.

'Gah! Sherlock! Fuck!' John cried, his body slamming against the door as Sherlock fucked him without mercy. 'Sherlock! Slow down! Fuck! You're hurting me!'

Sherlock stilled his hips. 'Sorry,' he whispered softly, kissing John's neck. 'I didn't mean to be so eager.'

'Just be careful,' John whispered, rocking back on Sherlock's cock in a steady motion. 'We don't wanna get caught.'

'Yeah, ok,' Sherlock said softly, starting up his thrusts again at a slower pace. John hummed and leaned back against Sherlock, moaning softly as Sherlock moved inside him.

'You feel bloody fantastic,' he whispered. 'God I love you.'

'You feel pretty fantastic yourself,' Sherlock moaned, his hips jerking upwards. 'Now cum for me so we can get pissed and indulge in some piss play sex.'

John's breath stuttered and he felt his balls tighten at just the thought.

'Yes. God yes. Oh fuck! Cumming!' he cried as he spurt thickly against the door. Sherlock groaned, throwing his head back in a moan of John's name as he came thickly too.

'Piss up my arse,' John moaned. 'I know you have to piss. You'll make plenty more soon. Just piss, Sherlock. Piss!'

Sherlock groaned and emptied his bladder into John's arse. Baring in mind he hadn't gone in a while and the fact he'd drank so much alcohol there was tons of piss there. He groaned at the relief and buried his head in John's shoulder. John felt himself being filled with the warm liquid, some of it dribbling down his legs and onto the floor.

'How does it feel to you?' Sherlock groaned out, kissing John's ear.

'Warm, and wet,' John moaned softly. 'Oh. Oh god. You just found my prostate. Oh fuck! Right there! Oh god I'm gonna cum again!'

'Cum for me! Cum so hard you almost pass out! Do it!'

'Augh! Sherlock!' John cried as he came again, Sherlock's piss continuing to stimulate his overly sensitive prostate and making his head fuzzy and his knees weak from the pleasure. Sherlock grinned dopily as his piss came to a stop. He caught John just as his knees were about to buckle and laughed.

'Good boy, Watson.'

John moaned something incoherently, his mind completely blank from overstimulation.

'Was that an "I love you"?' Sherlock grinned. John mumbled again and closed his eyes, his head thunking against the door.

Sherlock pulled out of John and shook him gently. 'Oi. Don't actually pass out. Think of all the fun I'll have without you.'

'You won't have fun without me,' John murmured. 'It's impossible.'

'Not impossible,' Sherlock purred. 'Now wakey wakey. Are we gonna wake up with hangovers from hell, or what?'

'Mmm. Yes. Pull my trousers up. I need a drink.'

Sherlock pulled John's trousers up along with his own. 'Me too. Tequila shots?'

'Sounds good to me,' John grinned, standing on shaky legs. 'Lead the way.'

Sherlock tugged John back into the club. It seemed so much more crowded and noiser than before but Sherlock paid it no mind. He hurried to the bar, keeping John close. John grasped Sherlock's hand tight as they navigated the crowded club, the patrons all staring at them. Well, at Sherlock. No one would stare at John. He wasn't ungodly handsome like Sherlock was. Sherlock wrapped an arm around John as a statement to any onlookers that he was taken and that John was his. He ordered two tequila shots and passed one to John.

'To getting pissed beyond belief!' he cheered happily.

'To a great first date,' John grinned, clinking his glass with Sherlock's and swallowing the shot down. Sherlock swallowed his shot down and coughed and spluttered.

'Bloody hell that's strong!'

'You should try a vodka shot,' John smirked, ordering a round.

'Oh. Dear lord.' Sherlock took a shot of vodka and raised it to his lips, shoving it down his throat. He choked and his eyes widened. 'Fuck!'

'Toldja,' John grinned, drinking down his own shot. 'Whoo! We should get some of those fancy mixed shots. Three of those!' he told the bartender.

'Ya keen?' Sherlock giggled. 'Ge' some beer t'. Fill ya bladder up nice n full.'

'Ya. Ok. Two beers,' he told the bartender when he returned with the shots. He nodded and filled up two pints, starting a tab for the boys. John picked up a blue shot and raised it in a toast.

'T' celebratin mai birfday wif mai luv an mai bes friend,' he grinned goofily.

'Haha! Ya feckin pissed!' Sherlock laughed heartily, his face splitting in a permanent grin. Sherlock raised his own shot and repeated an even more slurred version of John's toast. John downed his shot and grabbed his beer, gulping it down greedily. Sherlock grabbed for his own pint and guzzled it down. He slammed his empty glass down and slid his hands down John's body to where he knew John's already overfull bladder was, pressing down lightly on it.

'No,' John moaned, slapping Sherlock's hand away. 'Das private, Sher.'

Sherlock whined. 'Wan ya t' piss yaself here. Now. Pwetty pleath?'

'No,' John frowned. 'Not in public.'

'K,' Sherlock mumbled. 'More shots then?'

'Ya. N more beer. I wanna dance!' he exclaimed suddenly. 'Danth wif me Sher!'

'Can't danth,' Sherlock whined loudly. 'B' k. Leth danth!'

'Danth!' John giggled, grabbing Sherlock and dragging him over to the dance floor. Sherlock groaned as he and John began to sway on the dance floor. Everything was perfect. A little too perfect. John pulled Sherlock close and turned around, grinding his arse against his crotch, a hand snaking up and tangling in Sherlock's hair.

'Love ya!' Sherlock shouted over the pounding music, rocking against John.

'Love you too!' John shouted over the music. He scanned the crowd, watching other couples dance together like drunken sluts. Then his eyes caught sight of someone he never expected to see that night.

'Oh my god! Mary?!'

'Wha?!' Sherlock spun around and groaned at the sight of the blonde haired girl. 'K. We're leathin. Now.'

'Awww, why?' John frowned, looking up at Sherlock with puppy dog eyes. 'Juth lemme say hi, k? Den we can go.'

Sherlock groaned loudly but nodded. 'Fine. Gonna get a drink, k?'

'K.' John pecked him on the cheek and stumbled over to Mary, wrapping his arms around her in a warm hug.

'Mary! How you doin? What you doin here?'

'Have you been drinking?' she asked incredulously.

'Yeah. Ceberating mai birfday cuz I wuz in Italy fer mai gap year. So Sher and I came out t' celeberate.'

'Sher?'

'Mai angel. Ya know Sher.' He waved over to Sherlock and grinned. 'He's mai bes frien.'

'Your best friend?' Mary pouted. 'But I thought–'

'I can haz more den one bes frien,' John interrupted her. 'I gots you an him, but he's the beses bes frien I ever had.'

'John, you're drunk,' Mary scolded. 'Go home. Please.'

'K. Sher an I were gonna leaf 'nywa. Night, Mary.' John gave her a hug and kissed her sloppily, Mary's eyes widening in shock before shoving him away. John stumbled back and landed on his bum, laughing loudly as he attempted to stand back up.

'Go home, John!' Mary told him harshly. 'Just go home!' She ran off, almost in tears, and John didn't understand why. He couldn't even get up really. Where was Sherlock? He needed his help.

'Sher! Sher!' he called out. 'Iff fallen an I can't get up!'

Sherlock had seen and heard it all. The hug. The kiss. The way he had basically been what humans called 'friend zoned.' He swallowed his beer that he'd gotten for himself and drank John's too, and several multi colored shots. He stumbled over to John and helped him up, glaring at him hatefully before storming off.

'Sher! Come back!' John yelled after him, stumbling his way out the door and catching up to Sherlock easily seeing as his wings were still bound.

'Sher? Wuz wrong?' he asked in concern when he saw the hurt and devastated look on his angel's face.

'Ya dun love me!' Sherlock screamed, his voice thick with alcohol and anguish. 'Fuck off!'

'Wha? Yeth I do! I wuvv you, Sher! I do!' John protested. 'I wuvv you more den 'nyone else on dis whole earf. Well, cept mai mum, but you da most I wuvv romantically.'

'Thop lyin!' Sherlock roared, tears dripping down his face in the masses. 'Ya kithed Mary. Fuck you! Ya bathard!'

'No! Sher, dat wuz an akident! I dun luv her! I wuvv you! Lemme prove it!' He pulled Sherlock into an abandoned alley and pushed him against the wall, kissing him drunkenly as he pressed himself as close as he could get to the angel. He let go of all the pent up piss from his alcohol consumption, pissing all over himself and Sherlock, completely soaking both their trousers.

Sherlock tried to concentrate on the kiss but his mind was fogged with so much alcohol that he could barely see straight. And when the pissing started it wasn't at all hot and his cock didn't perk up in the slightest. Instead he too started pissing, emptying everything in his bladder. He pushed John onto the ground and ran away, swearing loudly in multiple languages as he did so.

'Shalawk!' John cried after his angel, hurt, confused, and sopping wet. He stumbled onto his feet and pulled out his mobile, dialling the one person he knew he could count on in times of crises: his mum.

'Mmm. Hullo?' she answered, sleep heavy in her voice.

'Mummy?' John whimpered into the receiver.

'Jonathan?' Now she didn't sound so tired. 'Baby, what's happened?'

'I... Shalawk took me out to cebamerate mai birfday bu I had an akident and he lef me,' John sniffled. 'I smell weally bad, mummy. And I wanna go home.'

'Oh sweetie,' she sighed. 'Where are you? Mummy will come get you.'

'At th new club. Th one by Baker Street.'

'Ok. I'll be there in a few minutes with your pyjamas and a blanket. I love you, baby. It's going to be ok.'

'K. Wuvv you too, Mummy.' John hung up and sat down, staring at his mobile. What the hell had gone wrong tonight? And what was going to happen now? He hoped Sherlock was ok, because he  _did_  love him. He honestly and truly did, and he'd be devastated if anything happened to him. He just hoped his angel was safe, wherever he may be.

**...::-::...**

Sherlock somehow found himself on his brother's doorstep, banging on the door loudly. He was here to say goodbye because what he was about to do left him with an uncertain future that could possibly have death as a consequence. He was going to fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock is prepared to fall for his human, but will he really do it? Tune in next week to find out!
> 
> ~TSA + MJCF
> 
> I'm kidding. I won't leave you hanging like that. Sherlock is prepared to fall for John to prove to him how much he loves him and how far he'll go for him. John is too drunk to understand what is happening right now. He'll be better in a couple of chapters. Next chapter focuses mainly on Sherlock and his little angel family. So be prepared for David cuteness! Until next week.
> 
> ~TSA + MJCF


	30. Drunken decisions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good afternoon everyone. It is just past 1:30 p.m. here in America and I am at work until 10 p.m. Yes, a 9 hour day. But so worth it. Especially when I can watch Netflix and play the Sims 3 for hours. The library is completely dead given it's a holiday weekend here. Most people are coming home from traveling for the 4th, so there's like 5 people here today. So I packed my laptop and decided to update the stories as well as watch some _Doctor Who_ series 7 on Netflix. I'm up to "The Angels Take Manhattan." First the Daleks and now the Angels? What's so special about Manhattan during the Great Depression? Well, it was a vulnerable time for the states. I guess that's why the aliens come back to that era because we were pretty defenseless back then.
> 
> But I digress.
> 
> MJCF: Sherlock  
> Me: John  
> Shared: Mycroft, Greg, and David
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: some drunk!lock, Holmes brother feels, Sherstrade feels, parent!lock feels, Johnlock feels, just a ton of feels.

Mycroft woke with a groan and looked at the clock. Bloody two a.m. and someone was banging on the door.

'Wha izzit?' Greg asked sleepily, his rounding belly pressing into Mycroft's side as he sidled closer to him.

'Door. Be right back,' he mumbled, pecking Gregory on the lips before stumbling downstairs and wrenching the door open.

'Sherlock?' He raised an eyebrow at the state of his little brother. 'What are you doing here? Is everything alright?'

'Shhh!' Sherlock hurried into the warmth of his brother's home, placing a finger on his brother's lips. 'Ish Greg n Daffid up? Wanna say g'bye.'

'Sherlock,' Mycroft sighed, pushing Sherlock's hand away from his mouth. 'What is going on? Have you... Have you been drinking?'

'Ya!' Sherlock giggled loudly. 'Wanna see ma son n Greggy befer I go t' anfels.'

'Sherlock, what are you planning to do?' Mycroft asked, his voice laced with worry. Sherlock shrugged and turned around, struggling out of his blazer. His wings were sore from being bound for so long and his feathers were twitching madly in irritation.

'Oh my god!' Mycroft gasped. 'Did John do that to you?'

'Mmm.' Sherlock frowned. 'Yeha, cus I wanna be more human n dis wath the only way.'

'You wanted to be human for him?' Mycroft frowned as he started freeing Sherlock's wings. 'Whatever for?'

'Cuz I wuvv him n I wanna make im appy.' Sherlock hissed as his wings were freed.

'He doesn't love you though,' Mycroft frowned, smoothing out Sherlock's feathers gently. 'You can read his mind. You know that he likes that human girl.'

'He wuvvs me,' Sherlock frowned, pouting. 'He thed he wuvvs me b' he kiffed Mary! Bathard!'

'He's an arse,' Mycroft scowled, smoothing out more feathers as he helped Sherlock stretch out his wings. 'Why do you want to see David and Gregory? What are you planning to do?'

'I... juth pleath ge um,' Sherlock pouted, giving Mycroft big puppy dog eyes.

'Ok,' Mycroft sighed in defeat. 'But please try to sober up. David doesn't need to see you like this.'

Sherlock rolled his eyes. 'Wah ya mean? Mmm na drunk.'

'Yes, Locky, you are,' Mycroft frowned. 'Go throw up and then drink some coffee. You'll sober up fast.'

'Or I coulth ge back mai tolerenth!' Sherlock grinned like a mad man.

'Get it back? What did you do with it? Did you give some of it to John?'

Sherlock nodded, closing his eyes and forcing the exchanged tolerances to the way they were before, causing himself to sober up completely and John to become more pissed.

'Feel better?' Mycroft asked softly.

Sherlock opened his eyes, his head so much more clearer. 'Yes, thank you. Though I dread to think how John is feeling right now.'

'Forget about him,' Mycroft scoffed. 'I'll go get David and Gregory. Go eat something. Please.'

'I'm fine, My. I can't stop long anyway,' Sherlock sighed softly.

'Well, at least drink some water or coffee,' Mycroft sighed before climbing upstairs to wake Gregory.

'Fine,' Sherlock grumbled, padding to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

'Gregory,' Mycroft whispered, gently shaking his husband. 'Gregory, I need you to wake up. Sherlock is here and he wants to see you and David.'

Greg groaned in protest. 'Our baby has only just decided to go to sleep. What does he want?'

'To say goodbye,' Mycroft whispered brokenly.

Greg opened his eyes, now far more awake. 'Goodbye?'

'Yes. I think he's going to fall, Gregory,' Mycroft choked out. 'I don't want my baby brother to fall.'

Greg sighed and rolled out of bed, groaning at how difficult it was to move with his and Myc's miracle creation growing inside of him.

'Then we'll just have to make sure he doesn't fall.'

'Thank you.' Mycroft hugged Gregory gently and smoothed a hand over his rounding belly. 'I love you so much.'

Greg smiled and laughed softly as he felt their fledgling nudge Mycroft's hand. 'I think Rupert is jealous.'

'Papa loves you too, Rupert,' Mycroft whispered, pressing a kiss to the spot his son had pressed up against. 'I'm gonna go get David. Would you go keep an eye on my brother?'

'Yeah, 'course. I need a pee first though. Rupert's been using my bladder as a bouncy castle again.'

'K. Love you.' He pressed a soft kiss to Gregory's lips and went to David's room, the little boy sleeping peacefully. He sat down on the side of the bed and gently shook his shoulder.

'David?' he whispered. 'David, your daddy's here, and he wants to see you.'

'Iz too early,' David huffed. 'Why does Daddy wanna see me?'

'He just does. Come on. I'll carry you.' He picked David up and carried him downstairs, Sherlock and Gregory were waiting for them.

'Daddy!' David squealed happily.

Sherlock ran to David with open arms and scooped him up. 'Have you missed Daddy?'

'Yeah,' David grinned, wrapping his arms around Sherlock's neck in a tight hug. 'Uncle Myc read me a pirate story before bed today. Pirates are cool!'

'Pirates  _are_  cool!' Sherlock grinned. He turned to Greg and frowned. 'There's something different about you, isn't there?'

Greg sighed and rolled his eyes, placing a hand on his belly. 'Take a guess.'

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. 'Oh. That. I just thought you'd had one too many donuts at the Yard. I suppose a congratulations is due.'

'Hey!' Greg pouted. 'I don't eat  _that_  much! Ow! Rupert! That wasn't nice!'

'You will now. You should have seen John. He ate for England when he was with child.'

'Tell me about it,' Greg groaned. 'He's kicking up a fuss already. Shush now. Daddy'll eat soon. Promise.'

Sherlock hummed and placed David on the ground, kissing his mop of hair gently. 'I can't stay long. I came to say goodbye.'

'Goodbye?' David frowned. 'But you just got here. Where are you going?'

Sherlock swallowed thickly. 'I'm going... far away.'

'Sherlock, you can't fall,' Mycroft choked out. 'You can't. You'll put us all in danger, David especially.'

'Why me?' David asked, looking between his uncle and daddy. 'Am I in trouble?'

'No, you're not in trouble,' Sherlock said softly. 'And he won't be because you're going to run.'

'Sherlock, do I look like I'm in any condition to go anywhere?' Greg scowled. 'It took me ten minutes just to walk to the loo. I'm not going anywhere.'

'Daddy, what's going on?' David choked out, tears brimming in his wide eyes. 'I'm scared. Are we in danger? Are you gonna get hurt?'

'No, sweetie. You're not in danger and I'm not going to get hurt,' Sherlock reassured his son. 'I'm falling and that's that,' he said, glaring at his brother.

'Falling?' David asked, a few tears slipping down his cheeks. 'But I always get hurt when I fall down. Won't you too?'

'No, David. It isn't the same. Falling is just like flying really.'

'It... It is?' David sniffled, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

'Except it has a far more permanent destination,' Mycroft choked out, swallowing thickly. 'Sherlock, please don't do this. John isn't worth it.'

'I'm not doing this just for John,' Sherlock huffed. 'I've thought of falling since I was a fledgling.'

'I know you have, but you've lasted three thousand years, Sherlock. Why now?' Mycroft asked. 'Is this really about John rejecting you? And don't forget about us. If you go about blabbing about your... activities with John, they'll drag me in for questioning and we'll all be in danger. Sherlock, please his think about us. This doesn't affect just you. It affects us all.'

'If I fall I no longer have to cater for heaven. I'll be a free angel, so to speak. And yes, I want John to realise how much he means to me. I've thought about you, I really have. I'm not sure whether they'd bother with investigating you. You've pulled in enough favors to be in their good books.'

'Sherlock, if John rejected you, why do you still want to fall for him?' Mycroft asked. 'They'll find out about David, I can assure you of that. And then they'll... they'll force you to breed with another angel to carry on our bloodline. I don't want you to go through that.'

'You're in the High Council. Surely there's a way to protect David. A splash of magic? There must be something! Because John said it would be easier if I was human and without my wings I'm practically there.'

'Sherlock, please,' Mycroft begged. 'I implore you sit down and think about this.'

'Answer me! Is there a way of protecting David?!'

'I don't know!' Mycroft cried. 'I honestly don't! Because human-angel hybrids are not supposed to exist! The High Council wouldn't create spells to protect them or keep them hidden! The rules state that any abominations like David are to be killed on sight! And I refuse to do that to my own nephew! I don't know what to do!'

'Daddy, am I gonna die?' David choked out, more tears dripping down his cheeks.

'Change the bloody rules then! And don't you dare tell me that that's beyond you!' Sherlock slid to the floor, sobbing, David crawling onto his lap.

'I don't wanna die Daddy!' David sobbed.

'I don't want you to die either!' Sherlock sobbed in return.

'I'll do some research,' Mycroft promised. 'Just please don't do anything until I get some answers. Promise me.'

'Okay,' Sherlock nodded eagerly, his face brightening up. 'Thank you, brother. Thank you so much.'

'You're welcome. I'll start in the morning. Now can we all go back to bed?'

'You can,' Sherlock muttered with a sigh. 'I need to make sure I haven't accidentally killed my human via alcohol poisoning.'

'Yeah. Go check on him,' Mycroft nodded. 'And put David to bed. I'm sure he'll want you to do it instead of me.'

'Read me a story, Daddy?' David asked in a small voice. 'Tell me about my other daddy?'

Sherlock smiled weakly but nodded, standing to his feet and cradling David in his arms. 'Ok, David. Which story about your other daddy do you want me to tell you?'

'Tell me about him when I was born,' David grinned. 'Before he left and did the mean thing to me.'

'K,' Sherlock grinned, taking David to his room.

'I love you, Daddy,' David whispered. 'I don't want you to lose your wings. Who'll teach me how to fly?'

'I love you too David,' Sherlock hushed.' But I'm not very happy about being an angel right now. And you're a big boy now. You'll be flying in no time. Do you want me to be happy?'

Sherlock placed David on the bed and curled up beside him.

'Yes. I want you to be happy, Daddy,' David said quietly. 'But if you aren't an angel anymore will you still be able to visit me? What about my other daddy? Will I ever see him again?'

'I really don't know to either of those things,' Sherlock choked out. 'I'm going to need you to be a brave boy, ok?'

'Ok,' David whispered softly. 'I don't want you to be sad, Daddy. Don't cry.' He cuddled close to Sherlock and curled up against him, clutching at his shirt securely.

'I'm not going to cry. You've made Daddy very happy,' Sherlock grinned, tickling his son to make him laugh. David spluttered with laughter and squirmed happily, his wings flapping about as his daddy continued to tickle him.

'Love you, David.' Sherlock cuddled David and kissed his head, his fingers coming to a stop.

'Tell me a story?' David asked, settling against his pillow to get ready for bed.

'Ok.' Sherlock cleared his throat before beginning his story. 'Once upon a time there lived an angel, and that angel met a very special human. At first they couldn't stand each other, but they grew to love each other. And because they loved each other so much they made a baby. That's where you come in. Unfortunately your human daddy had to leave to become the best doctor ever.'

'Has he become the best doctor yet?' David asked, yawning.

'Yes,' Sherlock grinned, tucking David into bed. 'Your daddy is the best doctor in the whole world.'

'Good,' David mumbled, grasping his bee plushie and hugging it tight. 'I love you, Daddy. Are you going back to my other daddy now?'

'Yeah, I am,' Sherlock told David with a soft smile. 'Go to sleep. I'll see you tomorrow.'

'Ok. Night, Daddy. Love you.'

'Night, sweetie,' Sherlock hummed, transporting himself away to John's room. John was shaking on his bed and by the smell of things he'd pissed himself again. Sherlock sighed softly and scooped John up in his arms.

'Oh god,' John moaned, clutching his stomach. 'Sher, I... I'm gonna be sick.'

Sherlock rushed over to the toilet in John's bathroom and placed him in front of it. John threw up violently, his entire body shaking from the force and amount of it. He sobbed against the toilet seat as he waited for the next wave to begin.

'What did you do to me?' he choked out. 'Am I pregnant again? Or is this all from the alcohol?'

'All the alcohol,' Sherlock whispered. 'I'm sorry. This is my fault. I shouldn't have gotten you to drink so much.'

'It was a celebration,' John groaned out, his stomach giving a painful lurch and he was vomiting again.

'Yeah. One of us was celebrating alright,' Sherlock mumbled bitterly. John sobbed again when he stopped vomiting, pressing his clammy forehead against the cool porcelain.

'I... I honestly don't remember much,' he mumbled. 'What happened after our bathroom fuck? I remember the shots, and I remember dancing, and I remember you running away. What else happened?'

Sherlock knelt beside John, frowning deeply. 'You broke my heart and kissed Mary then thought you could make it all better by pissing on me.'

'Mary was there?' John groaned. 'Can I have some water please?'

Sherlock sighed and magiced up a glass of water, handing it to John. 'Yes, and to be quite frank I hate you right now so shut your trap.'

'Then why did you come back?' John mumbled, sipping at the water slowly. 'If you hate me so much why didn't you just let me choke on my own vomit and die?'

'Stop being an idiot,' Sherlock groaned. 'Just because you lied about being in love with me doesn't make me love you any less.'

'But I didn't lie about loving you,' John said softly, turning to look at Sherlock. 'I love you more than life itself, Sherlock. Whatever happened with Mary was me being stupid because I was pissed. I'm sorry it happened and I wish I could take it back. But I  _do_  love you. I didn't lie about that. Read my mind. You'll know it's true.'

'But Mary's got what I don't!' Sherlock choked out. 'She can offer you a normal life. She's human. I'm not. I'll be close when I fall. I only hope that's enough for you.'

'When you fall?' John frowned. 'Why would you do that? I don't want you to fall. I love you exactly the way you are. My beautiful angel. And I don't want Mary anymore. She's nice, but I don't love her. I love  _you_.'

'I don't care. I'm going to fall for you and that's that.' Sherlock tugged John's piss soaked pyjamas off and pulled down his pants, leaving him stark naked. He flushed the loo and carried him to bed, stripping the bed and replacing the sheets before dropping John down on it. John had stayed mysteriously silent throughout.

John stared up at Sherlock as he aggressively cared for him, cleaning him and his bed free of piss before tucking him in gently. What could he say to show Sherlock that he truly did love him?

'Marry me,' he blurted out suddenly, watching as the blood drained from Sherlock's face and he froze stock still like a statue. Sherlock felt those two words pierce his very soul, his blood draining into his cock, his face paling. He curled up beside John and stared at him with bewildered eyes.

'Do you mean it? You want to get married... to me? But you're so young. Surely you need to think about this.'

'People do crazy things when they're in love,' John said quietly. 'And I love you so much I want to marry you. We already have a child together, Sherlock. That's a pretty fucking big commitment. Marrying you will officially make me yours, and you mine. I don't need to think about what I'm asking. I  _know_  I want to do this. Marry me, Sherlock. I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.'

Sherlock nodded, clambering onto John. 'Yes! Yes! I'll marry you!' he cried out, rocking against John's lap, moaning obscenely.

'Oh god. Slow down,' John groaned, stilling Sherlock's hips. 'Sorry, but I'm still quite nauseous. But I'm more than happy to snog and grope for a while.'

Sherlock didn't answer John, instead he smothered his lover's lips in his, kissing him insistently. John moaned softly and tangled his fingers in Sherlock's curls, rocking against him steadily, being sure not to upset his overly sensitive stomach.

'I love you,' Sherlock whispered, smiling against John's lips. 'You really should sleep. You're going to be even more poorly in the morning if you don't.'

'I know,' John yawned. 'Stay with me for a bit? I mean, we just got engaged. I'd like for my new fiancé to stay by my side for a bit before he flits off to do god knows what.'

'Of course, dear,' Sherlock promised, rolling off of John and curling up by his side. 'I'll stay here for a bit but I promised David I'd see him tomorrow, so I'll be gone before you wake.'

'Ok. And I love you, too,' he said softly, curling up next to him. 'How's David doing?'

'He's ok,' Sherlock said softly, wrapping his wings around John's body carefully. 'He asked me to tell him another story about you today. I don't like lying to him, John. If we're getting engaged then I need you to be a part of his life again.'

'Of course I want to be part of his life again,' John frowned. 'Why wouldn't I be? What kinds of things do you tell him?'

'Just that you love him very much and that you don't see him because you went off to become the best doctor in the whole wide world.'

'Mmm. I won't be the best doctor until I go to Uni, but yes, one day I shall become the best doctor in the whole wide world. I can't wait to see him again though.'

Sherlock bit his lip, exhaling softly. 'Just take it slow. He doesn't really know you. You're a stranger to him, John. Kids tend to be terrified of strangers.'

'I know Sherlock. I'm good with kids. They love me.' John grinned over at him and kissed him softly. 'I love you, and I'm about to pass out. I'll see you sometime tomorrow?'

'Goodnight, my love. See you tommorow.' Sherlock kissed John once more and watched as he slowly fell asleep. John slept peacefully, wrapped up in Sherlock's wings, nice and warm. He stirred slightly when Sherlock got up and left but he slept on, only waking a couple times in the night to pee.

Sherlock had left to go flying. He soared in the sky, the wind ruffling his feathers slightly. He always did his best thinking when he was flying. John had proposed. He'd actually proposed. And Sherlock had said yes. John really did love him. There was no question about it. Asking him to marry him was John's way of showing he was committed to their relationship. How could Sherlock do the same? Oh. Surely not. His mind kept whispering to him, telling him to fall to give John the best chance at a normal life. He deserved that. If John was going to risk everything then Sherlock was going to too. He swooped in the sky and closed his eyes, transporting himself to the High Council headquarters. What he was about to do would either ensure a happy marriage with John or it would endanger himself, John, and his family.

 _Here goes nothing,_  he thought to himself nervously as he made his presence known to the Elder angels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is where the _Supernatural_ elements come into play. We get to meet Michael and Urial, and I do believe Castiel and Dean are given an honorable mention ;)
> 
> I work briefly next Sunday, so I'll update then. Until next time!
> 
> TSA + MJCF


	31. Falling for John Watson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning everyone. Sorry for not posting last week. I had zero time to do much of anything other than work and sleep. So I'll be posting two chapters today to make up for the loss. Unfortunately, that means this story will be going on hiatus in about a month's time. There are gaps that need to be filled and the chapters need to be sorted before they can be posted again. I'm a year behind on making the chapters. I feel so bad.
> 
> MJCF: Sherlock  
> Me: Michael, Urial, John, John's mum  
> Shared: David
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: Sherlock's fall, treatment of third degree burns, angst

'Mister Holmes, the younger,' the head councilman, Michael, said in greeting. 'This is quite a surprise. You haven't come to us since you received your human. What brings you by tonight?'

Sherlock took a deep breath and straightened his back, trying to look more confident than he was feeling. 'I have to make a confession. I only hope that by telling you rather than hiding what I've done that I'll receive a lighter punishment, though do feel free to kill me. I'm not going to try to fight you over it. Firstly, I have to tell you that my brother does not know of what I have done, so leave him out of this. I have specifically kept this from him. He has threatened to turn me in to you if I break any of your rules. I thought it'd be rather embarrassing to be dragged here by him, so I came here by myself. At least this way I have a little dignity.'

Michael eyed Sherlock with a practised gaze, nodding slowly.

'Mister Holmes, what is it that you have done?' he asked in a calm voice.

Sherlock swallowed and took another deep breath. 'I've been... having sexual relations with my human.'

Michael frowned. 'Mister Holmes, that is a very serious charge. The lightest of punishments is removing your wings and banishing you down to Earth, the strongest punishable by death depending on the strength of your relationship with your human. Now tell me, have you two bonded?'

'I realise that.' Sherlock stood stock still, his eyebrows scrunching together in a frown. 'And no, we haven't bonded. I never allowed it to get that far. I was merely curious about human anatomy. I lead him on.'

'Are you certain that was all?' Michael asked. 'I know sometimes humans can be quite demanding and ask more of their guardians than they are able to give. Are you positive you two did not bond? Even accidentally?'

'I am certain of it. I was very careful about what we did and what we didn't do together. What would be the point of lying now? That is everything, Michael. You've known me since I was a fledgling. Have I ever given you a reason to doubt me? I have always followed the rules and now I have broken one. I'd like to fix it immediately.'

'Of course, Sherlock,' Michael sighed. 'I am sorry to see you go. I only hope Earth will treat you well. Urial, take Mr Holmes to have his wings removed and send him back to Earth. And Sherlock?'

Sherlock stared into Michael's cold, blue eyes. 'Yes, fellow brother. What is it?'

'Thank you for informing us about this. Though your actions are admirable, you will still be needed to help our population. And since you did not find a mate of your own we will have to take more drastic measures.'

Sherlock swallowed. He'd known that this was a possibility though he'd rather hoped he could have avoided it. 'When will I be taken to the factory? And how many children will I be expected to give birth to?'

'Within a month, and as many as we see fit. Now go.' He waved Urial and Sherlock off and sat back in his chair, dismissing them completely.

'Does it hurt?' Sherlock asked Urial in a quiet voice.

'Most cry out in anguish, yes,' he replied in a deep voice. 'Though I'm fairly certain it's over the loss of the wings more so than the pain.'

Sherlock nodded, exhaling softly. What had he gotten himself into? 'Will this take long?'

'No. Only a few moments. You're going to have to remove your shirt.' Urial held his hand out for the item of clothing, his face expressionless. Sherlock slowly unbuttoned his shirt and handed it over to Urial. He closed his eyes and tried to steady his heart beat, preparing himself for what was going to happen next.

'Sherlock, we'll need some of your feathers too,' Urial said softly. 'We need feathers of a fallen brother for protection spells to help protect our future brethren from such a fate. If you would be so kind.' He held his hand out again, gesturing for Sherlock to turn around.

Sherlock turned around, his wings stretching out to their full span. 'That doesn't work, you know? I went through that ritual and yet here I am.'

'That's because you aren't a believer,' Urial said, plucking some large feathers from Sherlock's wings. 'Castiel lost his faith, and I don't believe you ever had any. This is why angels fall. Lack of faith.'

'Believe in what?' Sherlock spat. 'The father who abandoned us?'

'Don't you  _dare_  talk about our father like that!' Urial spat, wrenching a feather out particularly harsh. 'He has not abandoned us! He would never do that to us! You have no faith, brother. This is why you have fallen for the humans. You have betrayed your family. I hope you're happy.'

'I'm fucking happy, yeah,' Sherlock snarled, his teeth bared, his eyes snapping open wildly. 'And look at us, Urial. What purpose do we serve anymore? Apart from serving humans and breeding like rabbits?'

'You will talk to me with respect,  _underling_!' Urial growled. 'I am hundreds of thousands of years older than you and you will speak to me with the respect I deserve! Now shut up and face your punishment.'

Sherlock stalked over to Urial, a sly smirk pulling at his lips. 'You know what, Urial? Fuck you. I've always hated you.'

Urial smirked right back. 'Have fun being an outcast. I look forward to impregnating you.' He shut the chamber door in Sherlock's face before he could retort, but the look of utter fear on his brother's features was very satisfying indeed.

Sherlock was aware of the faint smell of burning and a scalding heat creeping along his skin. Then the pain hit him. It was agonising. The loss of his wings, the way his feathers were burnt to a crisp, the crack and snapping of bones disintegrating. Then he fell from heaven into Earth's sky, a blazing light against the pitch black night, his screams echoing out for miles.

John woke suddenly, something waking him up. A bad feeling that something was terribly, terribly wrong. He looked out his window and saw a streak of light plummeting toward Earth. An angel. His heart broke for the poor creature that had fallen. He only hoped that the human he or she had fallen for would still love and care for them and not abandon them like most fallen angels were.

Sherlock hit the ground with a dull thud. He was still screaming at the top of his lungs, a stream of tears dripping down his cheekbones and falling onto the ashes his wings had left behind.

'John!' he cried out for his human desperately. 'John, I need you!'

John felt the pull of something strong within his chest, something powerful enough to make him gasp from the force of it. Sherlock. Oh no. Had that fallen angel been Sherlock? John quickly got dressed and dashed out of his house, running purely by instinct towards the pull of his angel.

Sherlock screamed till his throat was raw and he could scream no more. His eyes closed and he was almost certain that the high council had changed their minds and had killed him. John found Sherlock just as his screams died. He'd landed in the same alley where he had attempted to kill himself a year ago.

'Sherlock!' he cried, rushing to his side. 'Sherlock! Wake up! Please don't be dead! Please!'

Sherlock whined and turned onto his stomach, revealing his marred back. 'John,' he whispered weakly. 'I'm sorry.'

'Oh my god,' John gasped out, tears forming in his eyes and his throat closing slightly. 'You fell? You actually fell?'

'I fell,' Sherlock repeated quietly, 'for you, John.'

'For me? Sherlock, I didn't want you to fall. You're my beautiful angel. I... Are you in pain?'

'Yes.' Sherlock managed to push the one word out of his lips before his whole body began shake like he was possessed.

'Oh god, oh god,' John rushed out in a panic. He pulled out his mobile and dialled 999, calling for an ambulance to bring a recently fallen angel to a hospital for care.

'Just breathe, Sherlock,' John said softly, squeezing Sherlock's shoulder gently, trying to avoid touching any of the blackened flesh where his wings had been burned off. 'An ambulance is on its way to get you help.'

'What!' Sherlock sobbed out, his breathing harsh and painful. 'No! You don't know what they do to fallen angels! They'll kill me!'

'I won't let them,' John choked out. 'I won't let them harm you. Sherlock, please, you need proper medical care. I won't let them hurt you.'

'Then  _you_  heal me!' Sherlock wailed. 'You're practically a doctor!'

'No I'm not!' John sobbed softly. 'I have no medical training whatsoever. I'm of no use to you.'

'They'll take me away from you! You'll never see me again! Help me, John!'

'What do you want me to do? Take you home and rub burn salve on your back? How are we gonna get home? You can't fly us there, and I'm pretty sure your screams of agony will wake my parents. What am I suppose to do?'

Sherlock's hand clasped John's and he sniffled loudly. 'Save me,' he whispered quietly. 'I don't care how, just save me.'

'Ok,' John choked out. 'I'm gonna pick you up, ok? I'm sorry if I hurt you.' He picked Sherlock up as gingerly as he could but the angel still cried out in utter agony.

'Fuck!' Sherlock screamed, writhing in John's arms madly. 'Get me back to your place. Now!'

'That's what I'm doing!' John sighed loudly, walking at a brisk pace back to his house. 'I'm going to put you in a bath and then I'm going to shop for salves and bandages.'

'No!' Sherlock cried out in anguish. 'Don't leave me!'

'You want me to take care of you, don't you?' John asked, sucking into an alley when a police cruiser drove by. 'I don't have the proper materials to care for you. Please, Sherlock. You'll be alright. I promise. I'm here for you.'

'But... I don't want you to go,' Sherlock whimpered loudly, clutching to John tighter.

'I know, love, but I have to if I'm going to save you. Trust me? Please?'

'You should always trust your doctor...'

'Good man,' John grinned. 'And seeing as I am your doctor, I ask that you trust me to care for you.'

'I trust you,' Sherlock whispered weakly. 'Now get me home. I feel like I'm going to pass out.'

'We're almost there,' John assured him softly. 'Almost there. Stay with me, ok? Don't pass out.'

'It hurts though! It fucking hurts! Wanna go t' sleep.'

'Not yet, baby,' John said softly. 'I can see my house. We're almost there. Just stay awake.'

'I can't! Fuck! It's so hard!' Sherlock bit down on his lower lip til it started bleeding, trying to ignore the agonising pain his back was in. 'I'm gonna wake up your household,' he hissed loudly.

'Sherlock, please. I'm trying to save your life. Do you still have your magic or whatever?' Sherlock shook his head, his eyes rolling into his skull, loud cries still escaping his lips.

'Sherlock!' John cried, tears streaming down his cheeks. 'I don't care if you wake my parents. I'm taking you inside. I'll come up with some sort of excuse. I'm not gonna let you die!'

He rushed inside, Sherlock's screams echoing throughout the house and indeed waking his parents. He didn't talk to them when they ran from their room, just took Sherlock upstairs and started a bath for him.

Sherlock gasped loudly as John lowered him into the water, his eyes snapping open. 'Wha?!' he cried, disorientated and terrified.

'Shhh,' John said as softly as he could manage. 'This is just to get rid of the dead and burnt skin on your back. Stay here while I get bandages and salves, ok?'

'Your parents?' Sherlock asked, his voice strained. 'What will you tell them?'

'I don't know. I'll send my mum out for things so I can stay with you. Be right back.' He pressed a kiss to Sherlock's forehead and dashed out to get his mother.

'Mum, I need you to do an immense favour for me.'

'What's wrong with Sherlock?' she asked, worry heavy in her voice. 'This is about him, isn't it?'

'Sherlock has been burned quite badly and it's taking his body too long to heal,' John lied, though he assumed it was partially true. 'I need you to go get some burn salve and some bandage wraps. Please, Mum. I don't want him to die from this.'

'Of course dear. I'll be back as soon as I can.' She pressed a kiss to the top of his head and dashed downstairs to grab her purse, getting in the car and driving off in her pyjamas and slippers. John returned to Sherlock and smoothed a hand over his clammy forehead.

'My mum's going to get you some medical supplies. She'll know what to buy. She's a nurse.'

'Can you get in the bath with me?' Sherlock asked quietly. 'Please. I need you. I'll explain why... why I did what I did.'

'Sure,' John said, already stripping out of his clothes. 'How are you feeling? Do you want pain pills?'

'I'm in fucking agony. I doubt anything you can give me will work,' Sherlock frowned. 'Just get in here and hold me.'

'Ok.' John climbed in and sat across from Sherlock, gently pulling him onto his lap. He grabbed a large cup from under the sink and filled it with the bath water, pouring it steadily down Sherlock's back, trying to keep the burns from cracking and bleeding.

Sherlock hissed and whined, burying his head into John's shoulder. 'I love you, John. You're all I have now. I'm so sorry about what I've done.'

'I love you too,' John whispered, pouring more water down Sherlock's back. 'Why did you fall? What was your reasoning?'

'I can't really remember now. It's all a bit of a blur. I think it was a gesture to you, to show you how much I love you.'

'Sherlock, you didn't need to fall to show me you love me,' John sighed. He paused, remembering the premise of their date. 'Was this your attempt to give me a normal relationship with you?'

Sherlock nodded, a breathy sob escaping his lips. 'I'm normal now. Practically human. Isn't that what you want? A normal marriage and a normal life?'

'Sherlock, I wouldn't have cared what kind of a life I had as king as it was with you,' John said softly. 'While I appreciate the gesture, look at how much pain it's put you in. I don't like seeing you in pain.'

'It'll fade,' Sherlock mumbled weakly. 'It's the whole being expected to carry a bunch of angel babies thing that I'm worried about.'

'Oh. Right. I forgot about that.' John sighed loudly. 'Do you basically do that until you die now?'

'I dunno.' Sherlock shrugged his shoulders slightly. 'All I know is that by this time next month I'll be knocked up with two bloody fledglings.'

'Two?' John raised an eyebrow and poured some more water down Sherlock's back.

'Angels are expected to carry two fledglings at a time. Far more efficient that way you see.' Sherlock frowned and stroked his flat stomach. 'Will you still love me when I'm the size of a house?'

'Of course,' John answered softly, cupping Sherlock's chin to make him look up. 'You cared for me when I was knocked up. It's only fair I return the favour.'

'David was ours though. I'm gonna be knocked up with someone else's children. That doesn't bother you?'

'No. Just so long as we'll be able to have another fledgling of our own one day I won't mind at all.'

Sherlock broke out into a grin. 'You mean?' His hands moved to press against John's stomach.

'Yes,' John grinned, linking their fingers over his stomach. 'But let's wait until we're married this time.'

Sherlock laughed joyfully. 'Maybe things are looking up after all.'

'We'll make it official after you have your first batch of children,' John grinned. 'Will they give you breaks in between pregnancies?'

'I should hope so.' Sherlock poked at his belly and pouted.

'We're gonna be ok, Sherlock,' John said softly. He kissed him softly, holding his face tenderly in his hands. Sherlock kissed John like there was no tomorrow, his lips working against John's until they were slightly bruised and he was forced to move back. John grinned at Sherlock goofily as he caught his breath.

'I love you.'

'I love you too,' Sherlock whispered, leaning his head against John's shoulder. 'Will your mom be here soon? My back is hurting like hell.'

'Yeah. I'll need to get out in order to talk to her though.' He grabbed the cup and poured some more water down Sherlock's back to moisten the burns. Sherlock hissed and kissed John again, trying to ignore his pain. He only pulled back when he heard a sharp gasp coming from the doorway. John froze and turned slowly toward the door. His mother was standing there, a bag of medical supplies in her hand, and her face as white as a sheet.

'Jonathan... What actually happened?' she asked in a small voice.

'Mum,' John choked out, staring at her with sad eyes. Mrs Watson swallowed thickly and entered the bathroom slowly, kneeling down by the tub and looking between her son and his angel.

'Right now I don't care what happened,' she said in a small voice. 'You need medical attention. I'll help you in any way I can. We can discuss how you came about your injury later. Now stand up and sit on the loo, facing away from us.'

Sherlock managed to stand with John's help. He didn't bother with a towel. He had far bigger concerns than John's mother seeing him naked. He sat on the loo with a thud and a hiss, his cheeks flushing red in shame. She saw them kissing, hadn't she? She knew he'd fallen for her son.

Mrs Watson pulled out three pots of burn salve and eight rolls of medical grade gauze. She washed her hands in the sink and then pulled on a pair of sterile latex gloves. She opened a pot of salve and dipped her hand in, pulling out a massive amount of the stuff. She gently began spreading the salve along Sherlock's burns, her other hand holding the former angel still rather forcefully.

Sherlock closed his eyes, trying to hold back his cries from the unbearable pain. 'Why are you being so nice to me?' he asked, his voice cracking.

'You may have fallen, and for my son no less, but you're still an angel,' she replied softly, dabbing more cream on Sherlock's back. 'You deserve to be treated with respect. And I'm a nurse. I treat every patient with respect, no matter the circumstances of the injury.'

Sherlock hissed as she rubbed salve into a particularly bad part of his back. 'Thank you... for being so kind and understanding.'

'You're welcome, Sherlock,' she replied softly. She opened another pot and dabbed more salve along Sherlock's lower back. Sherlock opened his eyes and glanced over to John with frightened eyes.

 _Do we tell her the whole truth?_  he asked through their telepathic connection.

John blinked and looked around as subtly as he could manage. What the hell was that?

_Over here, John. Now, do we tell her the whole truth? She deserves to know she's got a grandchild._

John stared at Sherlock wide eyed.

 _Are you in my head?_  he thought.

Sherlock rolled his eyes.  _Obviously. Just answer the question, John. I'm really on edge and I need to know what is and what isn't ok to tell your mum._

_Not yet. She should know more about how we entered our relationship before we tell her about David._

Sherlock nodded in understanding and turned to Mrs Holmes, smiling softly at her, not really sure of what to say, if anything.

'Later,' she said simply, putting some salve on the burns on Sherlock's arms.

'Are you certain you even want to hear how it happened?' Sherlock whispered. 'What's that silly Earth saying? Ignorance is bliss?'

'I'm not sure I  _want_  to know, but I'm fairly certain I  _need_  to know,' Mrs Watson said softly, opening a roll of bandages and wrapping it around Sherlock's torso. 'And going by the furtive little glances you and my son were exchanging I'm assuming there's more to the story than just your... relationship.'

'There's a lot more to it than our relationship, yes.' Sherlock bit his lip and glanced down. 'I'm sorry for all of this, Mrs Watson. I realise I have betrayed your trust.'

'No you haven't, Sherlock,' she said softly, pausing in her wrapping. 'Fallen or not, you're still an angel. I trust you with the care of my son, so therefore I trust you with my life. Your relationship with him changes nothing.'

'Mum,' John choked out, speaking up for the first time in what felt like hours. 'Are you... You aren't mad at me? About my lifestyle choices?'

'No, baby,' she whispered, turning to look at him. 'I love you for who you are, always and no matter what. You're my baby boy and I will always love you. Even if you kill someone I'll still love you.'

'Mmm. Been there,' Sherlock mumbled, his eyes glazing over. He briefly glanced up at John and smiled weakly at him before turning to Mrs Watson once more. 'Let's say we get a pizza? We'll talk properly then. How much do you want to know?'

'Everything, spare the more... detailed aspects of your relationship.' She continued with her wrapping, raising an eyebrow at the sight of Sherlock's eyes. 'You should sleep first before we chat. I'm off tomorrow which means my husband will be working. And by working I mean going over to Bob's and sitting in front of his giant telly and watching football. You may have stopped the abuse but you didn't change his personality or habits. Not that I mind. I rather enjoy the time to myself on my days off.'

'Of course,' Sherlock sighed softly. 'I'll–  _we'll_  tell you everything. I wasn't going to mention the finer details of our relationship anyway. There are things far more pressing than all that malarkey.' He yawned tiredly. 'I'm exhausted. So tomorrow would be for the best.'

'Good man,' Mrs Watson said gently. She eased Sherlock's arms up so she could continue her wrapping around his chest, using an entire roll for the job. Then she began on his arms, making sure all the burns were covered before pronouncing him doctored for the night.

'Take two of these,' she instructed, handing Sherlock some heavy duty pain pills. 'They're medical grade so they'll make you a bit loopy before you pass out. Then rest throughout the whole night and we'll check on you in the morning.'

'Thank you, Mrs Watson.' Sherlock smiled gratefully and took the two pills, swallowing them dry. He glanced up at John, beckoning him over with his eyes.

John sidled over and looked down at Sherlock, apologising with his eyes before he and his mum hauled Sherlock up and helped him over to John's bed. They laid him on his stomach so he wouldn't upset his back too much while he slept.

'Sleep now,' Mrs Watson said gently as she smoothed Sherlock's hair out of his face. 'I'll come check on you in the morning.'

Sherlock mustered a small thank you before finding himself dragged under a thick fog, the pain killers taking an effect.

'Thank you, Mum,' John whispered softly.

'You're welcome, Jonathan,' she whispered back. 'Should he wake up in the night all the medical supplies are here.' She pointed to the bags. 'I love you and I'll see you in the morning.'

'Ok. And I love you too, Mum.' They hugged and John felt her kiss the top of his head. She left, closing the door quietly behind her, and John crawled into bed next to Sherlock, being mindful not to jostle his back too much.

Sherlock slept through the whole night, barely stirring. He didn't dream. Everything was numb and black. When he did awake it was with an anguished scream. He gasped and writhed on the bed in absolute agony.

'John!'

John dashed out of the bathroom, running a fresh bath for Sherlock under his mum's instructions. He ran to Sherlock's side and held his face securely in his hands, making him look at him.

'Sherlock, it's ok. Relax. Just breathe.' He took in a deep breath himself, helping them both calm down. Sherlock felt himself relax slightly. He closed his eyes and scrunched up his face, trying his hardest to remain calm and to hold back his screams.

Help me. Please help me, John.'

'Come on. We need to get in the bath. My mum said it would help. Though for a normal human it would be the worst thing ever. She figures you should be able to handle it better because of your angel DNA. By this point, a human with burns as severe as yours would either be in a coma or dead. So we're thinking you can handle a bath and maybe we can remove the bandages. You still heal rather quickly, yes?'

'I should, yeah,' Sherlock answered hoarsely. 'Just get me in that bath and kiss me till I stop hurting.'

'Not in front of my mum,' John whispered, pressing a searing kiss to Sherlock's lips and devouring them. Sherlock kissed John deeper, desperate noises of appreciation tumbling from his lips.

'Boys! I can hear you in there!' Mrs Watson yelled from the bathroom. 'Now get in here so we can get you cleaned up!'

John flushed and pulled away, Sherlock's lips swollen slightly. He cleared his throat and helped Sherlock to his feet, being mindful of his bandages.

Sherlock gasped loudly as John led him to the bathroom. 'I hope to god my back heals soon.'

'Me too, love,' John muttered as he helped Sherlock into the tub. His mum was prepped with scissors, fresh bandages, and more salve.

'Did you sleep alright?' she asked Sherlock.

'Yes. I slept well, thank you Mrs Watson.' Sherlock smiled at her awkwardly.

'Good,' she smiled back softly. 'Now lean back in the water so your bandages will moisten. Hopefully they won't remove too much dead skin when I cut them off.'

Sherlock took a deep breath and leaned back into the water, gritting his teeth together as he was overcome with pain.

'That's it, Sherlock,' Mrs Watson said softly, easing Sherlock down into the water slowly. 'Deep breaths. Nice and easy.'

Sherlock grunted, his face contorted in pain. 'Hurts a lot.'

'I know. And this goes against all my medical training to be doing this. Normally water and salves are the worst thing to do for third degree burns like yours. Under normal circumstances you'd be in a medically induced coma at hospital. But you're an angel, even if you have fallen, and you heal faster than humans and have a higher tolerance for pain. So I figured maybe getting you cleaned and bandaged wouldn't be so bad. You feeling ok, though? Do you feel faint at all? Mind fuzzy? Vision blurry?'

Sherlock blinked. His vision was quite blurry and his head was pounding. 'Na, I feel fine,' he lied, just in time to witness the world around him blacking out. Mrs Watson reacted immediately, picking Sherlock up out of the tub and carrying him out to her car, John close behind.

'Mum! You can't take him to hospital! That'll kill him!'

'They don't have to know about the circumstances of his injury,' she said calmly, laying Sherlock down on the back seat. 'For all they know he pulled you out of a fire and his wings got singed off. Now come with me.'

John got in the car and held Sherlock's head on his lap, his mum rushing them to the hospital where she worked. John let Sherlock's hair softly, silent tears falling down his cheeks.

David had felt his father falling. He'd asked Uncle Myc about where his daddy had gone and all he'd gotten in reply was a loud grunt. For the last few hours he hadn't slept a wink. Instead he'd been working on tracking his daddy down. When he finally found his location he transported himself to it. When he saw his father's body laid out unconscious on a stranger's lap he screamed.

'Get off my daddy! What do you think you're doing?! You're hurting him!'

John and his mother both gave startled shrieks at their extra passenger, the car swerving on the road before stopping at the kerb.

'Who are you?!' Mrs Watson demanded.

'David?' John asked incredulously.

David blinked at the stranger. 'How do you know my name?'

'John, what is going on?!' Mrs Watson demanded.

'Mum, just calm down please,' John said calmly. 'This is David. He's... How the hell do I even explain this?' He looked at David with soft eyes.

'Your daddy told you about me. The best doctor in the entire world. And I'm back to help take care of Daddy.'

David stared at John with wide eyes. 'Daddy?' he asked softly. 'Is it really you?'

'Yes, David. It's Daddy,' John said softly. 'Mum, keep driving. It's alright.'

Mrs Watson shook her head and continued driving to Bart's, eyeing David occasionally, trying to figure out who he was. David stayed silent for a long while, a small frown embedded in his features.

When he finally spoke his voice was small and broken. 'Why did you really leave me, Daddy? I know Father lied about why you abandoned me.'

'We'll discuss that later, David,' John said softly. 'Right now we need to get Daddy better. But I'm so sorry for leaving you.'

'Is he gonna die?' David squeaked, tears filling his eyes.

'No,' Mrs Watson said. 'We're going to get him proper help where no one will ask questions and give him the best care available.'

'I shouldn't be here,' David sniffled, wiping at his eyes. 'They might ask questions about me.'

'No they won't,' John assured him softly. 'For all they know you're a full blooded angel. Unless you want to hide your wings and pretend to be human?'

David shook his head, his eyes wide. His wings curled around his body protectively. 'Dun wan ya to hurt my wings again.'

'Look, I'm really sorry about that. But I was trying to dress you and you kept hitting me with your wings and I just wanted you to stay still. I'm so sorry, love. And I know this apology has come far too late, but I'm sorry.'

David blinked at John and nodded slowly. 'I forgive you, Daddy. I... I've missed you.'

'I've missed you too, baby.' John pulled David into a tender hug, pressing gentle kisses all over his face. 'I love you.'

David giggled and kissed his daddy back too. 'Love you too daddy.'

'We're here,' Mrs Watson said, parking and getting out. She picked Sherlock up and carried him inside, barking orders to her staff to get Sherlock treated. John carried David inside, the boy wrapping his wings around them both.

'If people ask, just tell them Sherlock is your daddy,' he whispered to the boy. 'I'm just your daddy's human right now, ok? That way they won't take you away.'

'Why do they hate me so much?' David mumbled into his daddies chest. 'What have I done wrong?'

'It isn't what you did, baby,' John assured him. 'It's what your daddy and I did. Angels and humans are not allowed to have children. But we had you anyway, and now we've been trying to hide you so the angels don't take you away... or worse.'

David shuddered and snuggled closer to his daddy. 'I don't want to be taken away, Daddy.'

'I won't let them,' John assured him softly. 'So for now just pretend that only Sherlock is your daddy and not me. Can you do that?'

'Yes, John,' David nodded, gripping onto his daddy tighter. 'You're just my daddy's human.'

'Good boy,' John grinned, hugging him tight. The two of them sat back as Sherlock was tended to, talking softly as David told him about his life with Uncles Myc and Greggy who apparently were having a baby now too. David felt a presence from behind him. He glanced up through his thick mop of hair and whimpered when he saw the woman from earlier.

'Hello,' Mrs Watson said softly. 'Jonathan, Sherlock is going to be fine. He was put into a medically induced coma so that he could heal without feeling pain.'

'Ok, Mum,' John sighed softly.

'Now that things have calmed down a bit, mind introducing me to... I assume he's your... son?'

'Yes,' John whispered, his cheeks flushing in shame. 'Mum, this is David. David, this is your grandmother.'

David slid off his daddy's lap and cautiously approached the woman. He held out a small hand for her to shake.

'It's... n-nice to meet you, ma'am,' he said in a quiet voice. Mrs Watson smiled gently down at the boy and knelt down to his level.

'It's very nice to meet you too, David,' she said softly, pushing down on his offered hand and cupping his face in her hands gently. 'Though there's no need to be so formal. You may call me Carol. For now at least. Eventually we can work up to Gran.'

'Hello Carol,' David grinned, moving to hug his grandmother tightly.

'Hello, David,' Carol grinned, hugging the boy back. John breathed out a huge sigh of relief, sinking down into his chair.

'Daddy doesn't look well,' David noted, glancing back at a very pale John and frowning,

'Jonathan is alright,' Carol assured David. 'I'm fairly sure he was afraid I would be mad at him. So he's probably a little shocked at how well I'm taking the news of being a grandmother to an angel.'

David's frown deepened. 'I'm not a normal child, am I?'

'You're the child of a human and an angel, so no, definitely not normal,' Carol said softly. 'How did this even happen? It shouldn't be possible.'

'Angel magic,' John said softly.

'Oh. Well... Who–'

'Me. I gave birth. My gap year was so Sherlock and I could hide to have David.'

'Your gap year?' Carol eyed David's size and raised a quizzical eyebrow. 'Barely even a year old and you already look like you're eight. How is that–'

'Angel DNA,' John said, sighing and rubbing his forehead. 'I have a headache. I need some sleep.'

'Did you not sleep last night?'

'No. I couldn't. I tried but I couldn't.'

'You can sleep now, baby. Sherlock will be fine and I'll look after David. Go sleep, baby.'

John grunted and sat back in his chair, his eyes closing. He began snoring softly and relaxed fully, not dreaming.

David bit his lip, frowning. 'I'm going to be in a lot of trouble when my uncle finds out I've left my room. I need to leave but I'm not strong enough to make the return trip. And I dun wanna leave. Wanna make sure both my daddies are ok.'

'I'll keep an eye on you sweetie,' Mrs Watson said softly. 'Wanna go get some food?'

David shook his head, glancing down at the floor. 'I'm not hungry. I... this is all my fault.'

'No it isn't, sweetie,' Carol said softly, standing up and cradling David against her softly. 'None of this is your fault. Now I'm going to take you to the café and I'm going to buy myself some breakfast and maybe get you a drink. We're going to give your daddies time to sleep and then we'll go back and visit. Sound like a plan?'

David nodded and snuggled against his grandmother. 'Can I have a milkshake?' he asked shyly, voice small.

'I'm not sure they sell them here, but I can check. If not, we can wait a little bit until lunch and then go out and find you one.' Carol pressed a tender kiss to the little angel's forehead and carried him over to the lift, a few people giving her weird looks along the way.

David frowned crossly. 'I don't like it when people stare at me. They're mean.'

'I'll take care of this,' Carol whispered. She turned to look at the woman who was blatantly staring at the pair of them and scowled.

'I would appreciate it if you wouldn't stare and so would little David,' she stated bluntly. 'And before you jump to conclusions his father was brought in this morning and I'm taking him to get some breakfast. So close your mouth and walk away.'

The woman snapped her mouth shut and walked away briskly, not even bothering to apologise. Mrs Watson huffed and entered the lift, adjusting her hold on David as they rode down to the ground floor.

David growled, his jaw locked in anger. 'I officially hate people. They're idiots. If I didn't have wings they wouldn't treat me like that. I think that's why my daddy fell. He wanted to be normal so he'd give my other daddy a chance at a normal life.'

'That lady wasn't staring at you because of your wings,' Carol said softly. 'She assumed you were my son, and that I had fallen for an angel. Unfortunately, angel-human children aren't that rare, though they rarely make it past the first year due to extremists hunting them down. But I won't let them get to you. You seemed to be safe at your uncle's home, so that's where you'll stay. And please don't hate all people. You don't hate me or my son, do you?'

'I suppose you're both alright in your own way,' David smiled, his eyes shining with something akin to humour. 'Though I much prefer my own company.'

'You sound like my son,' Carol smirked, hugging David close. 'He was always more of a loner type, even as a child. But more so now than he ever used to be. I worry about him.'

'You shouldn't worry,' David reassured his grandmother. 'I sometimes catch small glimpses of their conversations together. They're getting married and they're planning on having more fledglings. They're happy.'

'Who's getting married?' Carol felt the blood draining from her face. 'My  _son?_ '

David nodded, frowning. 'My daddies are gonna get married to each other. Is that bad?'

'No, it's just that my son is far too young to be getting married. He's only eighteen! He hasn't even started Uni yet!'

David's lower lip trembled. 'But they wuvv each other. They wanna start a proper family.'

'But my baby is too young!' Carol choked out. 'I don't want to give him away yet! He's my baby!'

'He's still your son,' David said softly. 'He was the one who proposed, not my other daddy.'

'My Johnny proposed?' Carol stepped out of the lift and carried David to the café, sitting them down without getting anything. 'He's still to young. I don't care who popped the question. I want my boy to be happy but it's too soon. I'm not ready to let him go yet.'

'Who said anything about letting him go?' David sniffled. 'If my daddies get married it doesn't change anything.'

'But my Johnny will move away,' Carol sniffled. 'He's still my baby. I'm not ready for him to leave the nest.'

David shook his head. 'But my other daddy has nowhere to go now he's fallen. They won't leave... the nest. Wait... you live in a nest?'

Carol laughed and shook her head. 'No, we don't live in a nest. That's just a human expression. We call our homes our nests, and when our children leave to go to Uni or get married it's called "leaving the nest."'

David snorted and laughed. 'Humans are strange creatures. I can't believe I'm part of your race.'

'And I can't believe I have such an adorable grandson,' Carol said quietly. 'You look a lot like my Johnny, except you have Sherlock's hair. Thick and dark and springy.' She pulled on a curl gently and let it bounce back in place, smiling at the little boy. 'When's your birthday, sweetie?'

'November, ma'am. Uh... Carol.' David smiled awkwardly. 'Technically it should have been in January but Daddy gave birth to me prematurely.'

'Yes. Humans can't carry an angel child to term. Our bodies are too fragile. Though I'm surprised my boy made it to ten months. He's stronger than I realised.' Carol smiled fondly. 'So your birthday is coming up in a few months. Are you going to have a party?'

David shrugged. 'I don't think so. My father has his own worries, I don't know any other children, and I barely know my other daddy... cus he abandoned me.'

'That doesn't sound like my Jonathan,' Carol frowned.

'He didn't want me,' David whispered. 'Don't tell my daddies this, but I can remember a lot more than they think I can. John wanted rid of me as soon as I was created. When I was born he acted as though he loved me but then he tied my wings together... and he left me. Today was the first time we've met in a long while.'

'That doesn't sound like my Jonathan at all,' Carol repeated. 'My boy is sweet and loving and... and the complete opposite of his father. No. I... I refuse to believe he would do that. No.'

David's lower lip trembled violently, his bright blue eyes filling with tears. 'He did. He's ashamed of me. Or at least he  _was_  ashamed of me. He didn't even want to go through with having me.'

'Because human-angel children are illegal,' Carol said softly. 'He probably didn't want you to live in a world where you would be shunned and bullied and possibly even killed. He was looking out for you before you were even born.'

'Then why are my daddies having more fledglings?' David asked quietly.

'I don't know,' Carol sighed. 'Perhaps Jonathan has changed his mind about children with Sherlock.'

David sighed softly and stood to his feet. 'I'm going for a walk. If you need me call my name.'

'Oh. Ok. Um, have a nice walk, sweetie.'

David nodded curtly, leaving with his wings draped behind him, a deep frown on his little face.

Mrs Watson sighed loudly and thunked her head down on the table. What had her son gotten himself into? Marrying an angel? And a child? And wanting more? What was she gonna do?


	32. The aftermath of the fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter for the day.
> 
> MJCF: David, Sherlock  
> Me: John, John's mum, Mycroft, Urial
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: angst, more treatment of third degree burns, David does something dangerous, talk of desperation play, impregnation, angstangstangst.
> 
> Trigger warning for this chapter: brief mention of rape at the end of the chapter

David wandered around the hospital for a long while. His daddy had fallen. His other daddy had rejected him for so long little David didn't know what to think. Who was going to teach him to fly now? He found himself on the rooftop of Bart's, his feet over the edge. He blinked. How had he gotten here? He frowned and glared down at the world below.

 _Perhaps if I can't be taught then I should just teach myself,_ David thought to himself. _And then maybe my other daddy won't abandon me again, if he knows how well I can fly._

He forced himself of the building and began to plunge down into the sky.

John woke with a stiff back and a sore neck. He groaned and rubbed his neck to get some feeling back into it but there was nothing he could do for his back. He checked on Sherlock, giving him a brief kiss and squeezed his hand before hobbling out of the room and heading outside. He needed a smoke and fresh air. He had barely made it outside when he heard a loud whoosh of air and looked up, gasping at the sight above him.

David was flying.

David laughed and swooped down low, circling his daddy like he was a bird of prey. He hadn't felt so free or so happy in his life before. The wind ruffled his wings and his thick black curls and a permanent smile was fixed on his face.

John laughed joyously and watched David fly around and around. His boy was flying, and he was enjoying it too. It seemed he'd gotten over his fear. David dipped down and landed on the ground with a light thud, sidling up to his daddy.

'What do you think?' he grinned, his bad mood completely washed away now. 'Pretty awesome, huh?'

'That was brilliant, love,' John grinned, pulling David in for a hug. 'I'm so proud of you.'

'I can't wait to show Father,' David laughed. 'Do you think it'll make him smile again?'

'I think so yes,' John grinned happily. 'He'll be so happy you're flying on your own. He told me you seemed a bit scared about flying without him, and he'll be ecstatic to see you being a brave boy and flying on your own.'

'I just figured that if I jumped from a high building I'd either fall or I'd fly.' He sighed softly in relief. 'I'm glad I flew though.'

'So am I,' John hummed, hugging David close. 'I'm so glad you didn't fall and hurt yourself.'

'Glad I didn't get hurt too. Um, Daddy? I think I got you in trouble with your mummy.' David bit his lower lip nervously.

'What do you mean?' John raised an eyebrow.

'I... um... can sometimes hear both your and my other daddy's thoughts. Sometimes I listen to your conversations too. And I heard you talking about marrying my daddy and having more fledglings... and I told your mummy and she flipped out.'

John paled significantly. 'You... You told my mum Sherlock and I want to get married and have more kids?'

David nodded, his lower lip trembling. 'I didn't mean to get you in trouble. I'm s-s-orry.'

'David, you can't blurt out things like that,' John said softly. 'You have to be careful of what you say and to whom. But yes, Daddy and I want to get married and maybe have a couple more fledglings down the road. Give you a brother or maybe even a sister. Just try not to listen to me and Daddy so much when we talk. It's private and not meant for you to hear, so please try not to listen in too much, ok?'

Tears shone in David's eyes. 'I'm sorry Daddy. I've just missed you so much... and it was a way of staying close to you. I didn't mean to blab it to your mummy. It just kinda... came out.' He blinked upwards at his daddy before looking away in shame.

'It's ok, love,' John said softly, hugging him close. 'Just don't blab things like that to my mum again. I would have preferred to tell her myself, or with Sherlock. But it's ok, love. Shhh. It's ok.' He hugged David close and pressed light kisses to his cheeks, smoothing a hand through his windswept curls.

'Here's your chance,' David squeaked, noticing his daddy's mummy approaching them. He hugged his daddy tight, burying his face in his daddy's warm chest.

'Oh no.' John clutched David close as his mum approached fast, a scowl on her face.

'Jonathan Hamish Watson,' she growled when she came within hearing distance. 'We need to talk.'

'David, it's ok,' John said softly. 'Mum, I can't talk about this now. Later. Please.'

David sobbed into his daddy's chest. 'I'm sorry Daddy!'

'Jonathan, you want to marry your angel and have more children,' Mrs Watson said forcefully. 'There is plenty to talk about. So start talking!'

'Don't yell! You're scaring David!'

David sobbed louder and shook against his daddy. 'I don't like it! Make her stop!'

'Mum, please. Can we talk about this later?  _Alone_.'

'I'm holding you to that,' Mrs Watson growled before stalking back into Bart's and back to work.

'Shhh, David. Shhh. It's ok. She's gone. Shhh,' John said softly, rubbing David's back soothingly.

David cried out and sobbed louder, tears streaking down his face. 'Why is she so angry?'

'She's scared, David,' John said softly. 'She's scared we're gonna get hurt or that maybe we're rushing into the marriage thing too young. I don't know, but she's definitely scared.'

'She doesn't like me,' David sniffled loudly. 'Cuz I'm putting you all in danger.'

'She probably doesn't like Sherlock anymore either because of what he and I plan to do,' John said softly. 'But she won't let that get in the way of her work and she won't hurt him. My mum is a professional. I promise you that.'

'Why doesn't she want you to marry Father?' David sniffled again. 'It's not as if you can get in much more trouble.'

'Now that Sherlock has fallen she shouldn't be so worried, but that isn't what worries her. She's more upset that we started our relationship in the first place and lied to her for so long.'

'But... you lied so you could both be happy. Doesn't she want you to be happy?'

'Of course she does, but my mum is very religious and is probably scared that I'm going to Hell not only for being with your dad but for being bisexual.'

'When I'm older I can raise you from perdition easily,' David informed John, puffing out his chest proudly. John laughed and hugged David close, pressing a light kiss to his temple.

'Thanks, love. That's very noble of you. Now let's go back inside. I don't know about you but I'm starving.'

David's belly grumbled in agreement. 'Yeah. I'm starving too.'

'Ok bud,' John laughed. He carried David inside, ignoring the looks people were giving him, and got the two of them some food. John worried silently if Sherlock was ok and when he'd wake up. They only had a month together before Sherlock was taken away to be bred like cattle. He wasn't even sure if Sherlock would be allowed to leave Heaven whilst pregnant. He sighed and forced himself to continue eating his soup. Soon he and Sherlock would be wed and they could have fledglings of their own. They'd just have to wait for the time to be right and for Sherlock to be available to... mate.

David watched his daddy curiously. He couldn't help but listen to his thoughts through their telepathic link. He instantly paled.

'Daddy... why is father going to be taken away?' John looked up and blinked at David.

'Who said Sherlock was going to be taken away?'

'You... you thought it.'

John sighed and rubbed his forehead. 'David, please don't listen to my thoughts. They're private.'

'I can't help it!' David exclaimed. 'I just sorta hear your thoughts.'

'You'll learn how not to listen. Sherlock can teach you.'

David snorted. 'Doubt it. He's worse than me.'

'How do you mean?' John asked, raising a quizzical eyebrow.

'He listens to your thoughts  _all_  the time,' David smiled awkwardly. 'To make sure you're not thinking bad thoughts about hurting yourself.'

'He does?' John smiled softly. 'Well, while I appreciate the sentiment, you really don't need to be listening to my or Sherlock's thoughts. Sometimes we talk about private things you don't need to know about.'

David pulled a face of revulsion. 'Erhh. I know. I turn off when you talk about... private stuff.'

'Good. Now eat your sandwich.' David rolled his eyes and dug into his sandwich. He whimpered loudly at the sight of his grandmother approaching. Though she looked a little calmer than before.

'Hi Mum,' John said softly. 'Come to join us? And please be calm now.'

'I'm calm, dear,' Carol said softly, sitting next to John. 'I still want to talk though. Just... later.' She turned to David and smiled softly. 'I'm sorry for yelling earlier.'

'It's ok,' David said, his voice muffled by a large bite of his sandwich.

'Don't talk with your mouth full, love,' John said softly.

David swallowed his food and blushed. 'Sorry, Daddy.'

'Shhh. I'm not Daddy right now, remember?' he whispered softly. 'Just John, your daddy's human.'

David bit his lip hard, drawing a bit of blood. 'Sorry. I forgot,' he apologised softly.

'Hey,' John frowned, dabbing at David's lip with his napkin. 'Relax. It's ok. Mum, when can we visit Sherlock?'

'Any time you want,' she said softly. 'He'll be under surveillance until we feel his burns have healed enough to bring him out of his coma. So if you want, go up and visit him. He's in room two hundred twenty one.'

John smiled and turned back to David. 'What do you say, David. Wanna go see Daddy?'

David hummed, chewing on his lip harder. He nodded slowly. 'K. I'll go see my daddy.'

'Ok. I'll see you later, Mum.' Jog kissed her cheek and took David by the hand, leading him to the lift to head up to Sherlock's room.

'Do you think he'll be able to hear us?' David asked, his voice a broken whisper.

'They say coma patients can still hear when you speak to them,' John nodded. 'Why? Did you want to tell Sherlock you flew today?'

'Yeah. Wanna make him proud of me,' David smiled toothily.

'He'll be so proud of you,' John grinned, leading David to Sherlock's room. He was laying on his stomach, his back exposed to the open air, some of his charred skin flaking and peeling off. John sighed and frowned, moving over to his angel's side.

'Oh Sherlock,' he said softly.

David whimpered and buried closer to John. 'Is he in a lot of pain?'

'Probably, yes,' John said softly, cupping Sherlock's cheek and stroking it gently. 'But he's asleep, so he shouldn't be able to feel anything.'

'Can I have a minute to myself with him?' David asked softly, his voice small.

'Of course, love,' he said softly. He pressed a tender kiss to Sherlock's forehead, smoothing his hair out of his face gently. 'I love you,' he whispered to Sherlock. He turned back to David and pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head.

'I love you too, baby,' he choked out. 'I'll leave you two alone now. Come get me when you're done. I'll be just outside.'

David waited for the door to close before approaching his injured daddy. 'Daddy,' he whispered. 'I'm gonna do something and it's bad. But I want ya to be ok.'

He clambered onto his daddy's back and placed his tiny hands against the burnt flesh. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He started healing the damaged flesh, his entire body shaking with the sheer effort it was taking him.

John sat outside the door, holding his head in his hands. Sherlock looked so awful. How the hell hadn't he died yet? He was still partially an angel, so perhaps that was playing a part in how he was still alive. He was obviously healing, just slower than he normally would with his full powers. He'd probably have scars on his back, reminiscent of his wings. That would be painful for them both to see.

David watched as life dripped from himself into his daddy. His daddy woke up gasping. David began to shake and fit, froth rising to his mouth. John frowned when he heard something that sounded like a fit coming from Sherlock's room. Was David crying? He stood and checked on him and cried out in shock. David was having a fit, foaming and frothing at the mouth, and Sherlock was gasping and flailing around on the bed.

'Help!' he cried. 'Help! Someone help!'

'John! What the–? David?! John, get him help. Now!'

'What does it sound like I'm doing?!' John screeched. 'Somebody bloody help us! My angel's son is dying!' Nurses and doctors, including John's mum came rushing into the room.

'Help him! Help him please!' John sobbed. 'What's wrong with him?'

'I'm afraid he's drained himself. He healed his father,' one of the nurses informed John.

'Healed? He healed you?' He dashed over to Sherlock and examined his back. Apart from some spots that still looked red and sore he looked completely healed. 'No! He's far too young! Why would he do that?! He's not strong enough!'

Sherlock took a shaky breath, scrunching his eyes shut, his whole body trembling. 'I've killed him! I've killed David!'

'He's going to be ok, sir,' one of the nurses assured him.

'He's gonna be ok?' John breathed out in relief and squeezed Sherlock's hand. Sherlock whined and nuzzled John slightly.

'It's nice to be awake. I just wish David had left me to heal in my own time.'

'That boy is gonna be in some severe trouble when he wakes up,' John whispered so only Sherlock could hear. 'While I'm glad you're alive, it was very stupid and risky of him to do what he did. What if he'd died?'

'Then I would have grieved over him and I'd probably kill myself too.'

'No,' John said sternly. 'No. I wouldn't allow it. We would have grieved and we would have had another child. But I wouldn't allow you to kill yourself, Sherlock. Because then I'd have no one and I would eventually kill myself too.'

'No!' Sherlock bolted upright and flipped over, giving John a huge hug, sobbing softly into his shoulder.

'I guess it's a good thing David's going to be ok,' John said softly, hugging Sherlock tight. Mrs Watson ushered her staff out of the room, only staying behind herself to quickly check over Sherlock's back before leaving. Once they were alone John pressed a soft kiss to Sherlock's lips, a much needed comfort for them both.

'I missed you,' Sherlock breathed. 'Thought I was going insane when I couldn't wake up. Then David... wrenched me out of my coma and healed me.' Sherlock kissed John again, slower and more sensually. 'Do you really mean it? About having more children with me?'

'I missed you too,' John whispered. 'And of course I meant it. I wouldn't lie to you about having more children. That process was hell. I wouldn't lie about going through that again.'

'I dunno,' Sherlock smirked. 'There was something about pregnant sex that really turned me on. And especially when you had no other choice but to piss yourself. Mmm.'

'That was rather fun, wasn't it?' John smirked. 'Though I want to be married first before we have another child. Deal?'

'Deal,' Sherlock agreed with a wicked grin. 'Mmm. Can't wait to get you in a tux.'

'I think you'll look rather fetching in one too. Especially in a bow tie. The Doctor would be proud,' John smirked.

Sherlock smirked. 'Bow ties are cool.'

'Yeah. They really are.' John kissed Sherlock again, slowly and passionately, his fingers carding through his angel's fluffy hair.

'Mmm,' Sherlock hummed softly. 'Can we go for a walk? Whilst I understand David is seriously ill, I need fresh air.'

'Yeah. You'll need clothes though. Wanna go shopping?'

Sherlock nodded and managed a small smile. 'Yeah, let's go clothes shopping.'

'Ok,' John grinned, sliding off the bed. 'I love you.'

'Love you too, love.'Sherlock grinned and rolled off of the bed, feeling no pain at all.

'Wow. Look at that,' John breathed out. 'It's like you were never injured.'

'Apart from the lack of wings that is,' Sherlock sighed softly.

'Yeah. Apart from that.' John swallowed and moved over to Sherlock, turning him around so he could see his back. He gently placed a palm between Sherlock's shoulder blades, feeling his muscles ripple as if his wings were stretching out and relaxing at his touch. He frowned deeply. Those beautiful, beautiful wings were gone, burnt to a crisp. He sighed and moved away, tears in his eyes.

'Don't you dare cry over my wings.' Sherlock turned and grabbed John's wrist, tugging him into a tight hug. 'The sacrifice that I made is worth it if it means I can be with you.'

'They were so beautiful,' John sniffled, hugging Sherlock tight.

'They'll live on in our children,' Sherlock murmured into John's ear, a hand dropping over John's stomach.

'Right. I only hope one gets your beautiful, black wings.' He linked his hand over Sherlock's on his stomach and smiled.

Sherlock smiled and leaned in to kiss John. 'We could practice baby making now, if you like. Or would that be terribly selfish with David ill?'

'Let's wait till he's better and we're in a more private place. Like my bedroom,' John smirked. 'Clothes shopping first though.'

'Mmm. Clothes shopping. Standing naked in the men's changing room until we break and fuck each other.'

'Oh hush you,' John laughed. 'I don't  _have_  to be in the changing room when you're trying on clothes ya know. Now put a shirt and some shoes on so we can go.'

'Dress me,' Sherlock purred down John's ear, sucking his earlobe into his mouth.

'Naughty,' John moaned, gently pushing Sherlock away to grab a shirt from the hospital wardrobe.

'I like to think you love it when I get like this.' Sherlock groaned loudly, a hand flying to his crotch.

'No touching,' John scolded lightly, batting Sherlock's hand away and slipping the shirt on over his head. 'And yes. I rather enjoy seeing you aroused and squirming. One day I'll have to take pictures.'

'You might have to take pictures. I might be gone for a year soon,' Sherlock joked lightly, though there was nothing remotely funny about it.

'I'll make a film then. That way I can listen to us together whenever I feel lonely,' John said softly.

'You won't forget me... will you?' Sherlock asked softly, his voice breaking.

'No. Of course not.' John pulled Sherlock into a warm embrace, burying his nose in his neck. 'I'll always remember you. I love you.'

'I love you too,' Sherlock hushed down John's ear softly. He hugged John tightly and buried his head into John's shoulder. When a sudden flash of light flooded the room his heart froze and he released John, turning to face his brother with sorrowful eyes.

'So you did it,' Mycroft said solemnly. 'You actually did it.' Sherlock nodded, his face crumpling slightly. He swallowed thickly. He didn't dare speak in fear of facing his brother's wrath.

'Why, Sherlock? Why would you do that? I said I was going to do research to help! Why would you go and report yourself anyway?'

'Because John and I are getting married and I wanted to be more human for him,' Sherlock replied quietly. 'And because I'm an idiot who had a death wish.'

'Married?' Mycroft stood up straighter, smoothing out his suit. 'Congratulations.'

Sherlock smiled weakly. 'Thank you. And you needn't worry. I've cleared it with Michael. The only punishment I'm going to receive is the loss of my wings.'

A quick look in his brother's head showed him that he didn't know he was getting shipped off to be impregnated. Not all angels were. The punishments varied. His brother didn't need to know.

'I can feel you in my head, Sherlock,' Mycroft said, his brow furrowing. 'What are you checking for? Is there something else I need to know?'

'Yes. As a matter of fact there is,' Sherlock scowled back, a lie that wasn't quite a lie on his lips. 'Like how could you let your nephew run away? That's what I was checking for.'

'Gregory was having an issue with his pregnancy and I was tending to him. David was outside playing. He disappeared when I left to help Gregory out of bed and to the loo. Where is David anyway? I thought he'd be here with you?'

Sherlock glanced at John, his eyes sad. His bright blue orbs flickered to his brother. 'He's in a coma,' he whispered brokenly. 'He healed my back and brought me out of a coma myself. It's made him incredibly poorly indeed.'

'He healed you?' Mycroft blinked, his lip twitching slightly. 'He's far too young to attempt something like that. Where is he? I'll give him some strength to heal faster.'

'I'm not sure,' Sherlock sniffled. 'They won't tell us anything.'

'Then find out! He's your son! You have the right to know!'

Sherlock flinched backwards in shock. 'Don't bloody shout at me. I'm sure you're perfectly capable of finding his room on your own.'

Mycroft took in a deep breath and stepped back.

'Apologies. Yes, I can find him. And it appears that you and John are going out?'

'Yes. We're going clothes shopping. If you need me just call.'

'Of course. Behave yourselves whilst you're out. We don't need an investigation on our hands.'

'We will,' Sherlock reassured his brother. 'We're coming straight back for David. No funny business.'

'Good lads,' Mycroft smirked. 'I'll give David some strength. You two go shop.'

'Thank you, Mycroft,' Sherlock smiled softly.

'You're welcome. Now go get some clothes. I'm interested to see you in excruciatingly human clothes. It should be quite amusing,' Mycroft joked, laughing softly.

'You're not the one who has to wear such things,' Sherlock groaned loudly.

'I know,' Mycroft smirked. 'Which is why I'll find it highly amusing. Now go. Shall I transport you to a shop?'

Sherlock sighed softly. 'Sly bastard. I hate you so much. But go on then. If you must.'

'Love you too,' Mycroft smirked, grasping John and Sherlock's shoulders and transporting them to the nearest clothing store.

'There you are, lads. This is within walking distance of the hospital, so you two can spend some human couple time together. Enjoy.'

Sherlock grabbed hold of John's hand and squeezed it tight. 'You ok?' he asked softly. 'You're awfully quiet.'

'Yeah, I'm fine,' John said quietly. 'My head's a bit fuzzy from the transport is all. Plus I really don't like interrupting Mycroft. He scares me.'

'Hey!' Mycroft pouted. 'Though I understand. Here's some cash for the clothes. And enjoy yourselves. If you need anything just call.'

'Right. Thanks. Take care of David, yeah?' John said, accepting the massive amount of cash.

'Of course.' Mycroft disappeared in a flash of light, leaving Sherlock and John alone in the middle of a bunch of department stores.

'Hey.' Sherlock turned John to face him, worry etched onto his features. 'You're not just worried about Mycroft, are you? No. You're worried about when I'm going to be taken away. And you're worried I'm going to be constantly pregnant. There's no need to be.'

'Stop reading my mind you numpty,' John huffed softly. 'But yes. And I don't want to think about that right now. Can we just shop for clothes now?'

'Yeah,' Sherlock sighed softly. 'But if it helps I'm worried about it too.'

'I would have been shocked and disappointed and slightly angry if you weren't.' He kissed Sherlock softly. 'Now let's buy you some clothes.'

'Are you gonna spoil me?' Sherlock grinned from ear to ear.

'Oh yes,' John grinned. 'Let's go shopping.'

Sherlock laughed and pulled John into the nearest shop. 'That. I want that,' he breathed softly, pointing at a large trench coat on display.

'I love it already,' John grinned. 'Let's get one and some nice clothes to go with it.' He dragged Sherlock inside and grabbed one of the coats, putting it on Sherlock.

'Perfect,' he grinned brightly.

Sherlock gasped and swirled around. 'It's so beautiful!'

'It really is,' John grinned. 'Now let's find some dapper clothes to go with it.'

'Yes let's.' Sherlock almost screamed at the hand grabbing his wrist from behind him. 'Uriel?!'

'Who are you?' John demanded, grabbing Sherlock's other wrist and trying to pull him close. 'Get away from him! Let him go!'

'You said a month,' Sherlock choked out. 'Why are you here so early?'

'You're healed,' Urial said plainly. 'And now that your body is strong enough to carry children it is time to begin.'

'No!' John cried. 'You can't take him! Not yet! Just give us the month! Please! I just got him back! Please! You can't do this!'

'Know your place,  _human_ ,' Urial sneered, shoving John away. 'You're the human he fell for. That means you're both filthy degenerates. Sinners through and through! You shall burn in Hell for your sins!'

Sherlock flinched and bowed his head. 'Just pay for the coat, John. You'll see me again. I promise.'

'No! I don't want you to go yet!' He wrapped his arms around Sherlock in a tight embrace, sobbing. 'Please. Don't go. We haven't even... You can't go! Please! You can't take him!'

'John, please remove yourself from me,' Sherlock whispered softly, lightly pushing John away. 'You're making this harder than it needs to be.'

'I don't want you to go!' John wailed. 'Please! Have some compassion!'

'I have no compassion for humans the likes of you,' Uriel growled. 'You tainted one of our best angels. Now he must help add to the population. His bloodline is strong. We need it among our ranks. Now let go, human! Or I shall smite you!'

John pressed a quick, heated kiss to Sherlock's mouth, not letting to just yet. 'I'll see you soon, ok?' he choked out. 'Come find me. Don't forget about me. Or the boy Mycroft is helping. Come back to us.'

'I won't forget about either of you. I'll see you soon. I love–' Uriel growled from behind him and they disappeared in a flash of light before he could finish that sentence.

**-brief rape scene ahead. ends where the ...::-::... begins the next section of the chapter-**

The next thing he knew Uriel was slamming him into a wall until his body was black and blue all over. He cried out loudly but it was no use. There were millions of angels screaming for help. Help they wouldn't get. Uriel removed Sherlock's clothes and put them in a neat pile before pressing up against him, his cock trapped between Sherlock's arse cheeks.

'I'm going to enjoy impregnating you,' Uriel groaned loudly, pushing inside without any preparation. Sherlock cried out at the feeling. It didn't feel right. It was so wrong and different compared to John's cock. Uriel instantly began to pound himself into him, Sherlock caught between moaning in pleasure and groaning in discomfort.

A red light started spiralling out into the air. It was so bright that Sherlock had to squeeze his eyes shut. He felt the light pour inside of him and two life forces being forced into existence. He cried out and clutched his stomach. Being an angel he was painfully aware that he was pregnant already. He felt like he was going to vomit. Uriel slammed himself into Sherlock one last time and he felt himself pass out.

**...::-::...**

When Sherlock awoke he blinked. He was no longer in the angel rape factory anymore. Though one glance at his stomach told him that yes, he was indeed pregnant and quite heavily pregnant too. He groaned and with a great deal of difficulty he pulled himself to his feet. He wrapped his great coat around him, buttoning it up. It did a good job of hiding his bump but he himself was still very aware of two fledglings both bouncing on his bladder and demanding food. He also was finding it impossible to walk normally. He was bloody waddling like a penguin. His back was aching and his ankles were swollen. Fuck. He was up the duff and there was no question about it.

It was heaven sent then that he was outside his brother's then. He waddled up to the door and managed to break in with years of practice of doing so. He waddled into the kitchen and began eating as much as he could fit into his mouth and as fast as he could. He was starving! He ate and ate till his belly was full with two almost full term babies and a ton of food. God. He felt so bloody fat.

He whimpered when he felt one of the fledglings bounce ultra hard on his bladder and just as his brother entered the kitchen he was forced to let go of what looked and smelt like a month's worth of piss. He groaned loudly, his legs trembling beneath him, his cheeks flushing in shame and embarrassment.

'Sherlock!' Mycroft exclaimed. 'What are you doing here? Where have you been? And what is that god awful smell?'

Sherlock shrugged and tried his damn hardest to waddle past Mycroft but his brother was too quick for him, blocking the only exit.

'Sherlock, talk to me. You've been gone for months, and there's really only one explanation for that.' He looked at his brother with sad eyes. 'They took you to the factory, didn't they?'

Sherlock swallowed and nodded. He slowly unbuttoned his coat and took a shaky breath. 'They're Uriel's fledglings.'

'Uriel's,' Mycroft said softly, tracing his fingers down Sherlock's swollen stomach. 'As far as bloodlines could go, they'll be magnificent fledglings. I only wish you hadn't had to do this. I thought losing your wings would be your only punishment? You lied to me?'

Sherlock sniffled, his lower lip trembling. 'I was ashamed. I thought you'd reject me.'

'Sherlock, you are my brother,' Mycroft said softly, squeezing his shoulders gently. 'I wouldn't reject you when you so obviously needed me. Especially not with a forced pregnancy like this. And you look ready to pop. Twins always arrive early. Do you know how far along you are?'

'I don't know. They wiped my memory.' Sherlock rubbed his stomach and groaned. 'The twins keep on moving around. I don't like it. It's making me nauseous.'

'I'll help you to the loo,' Mycroft said, taking Sherlock by the hand and gently easing him toward the bathroom.

'Thank you,' Sherlock wheezed, groaning louder. 'Why can't they bloody stay still?!'

'They're uncomfortable,' Mycroft said softly. 'Their home is too small. Rupert was the same before he arrived. So yours'll probably arrive soon.'

'They're uncomfortable?' Sherlock scoffed, a hand flying to his mouth. He dropped to his knees and threw up violently. 'They're not the uncomfortable ones.' He turned to Mycroft and blinked. 'How old is Rupert now?'

'A few months, and he looks about three,' Mycroft answered softly, rubbing Sherlock's back soothingly.

'And David?' Sherlock asked softly. 'How is he? Has John kept his promise? Has he been a part of his life?'

'Yes. David and John are fine and closer than ever. David's gotten big too. He looks about twelve now. His growth is slowing slightly due to his human half. Though he's by no means done. I imagine he'll continue to grow until he looks about twenty five or so.'

Sherlock smiled weakly. 'Good. Hopefully I'll be able to see them soon. But for now I need to sleep.'

'Of course.' Mycroft helped Sherlock stand and led him toward a guest room. 'Call if you need anything, alright?'

'Stay,' Sherlock whispered brokenly. 'Please stay with me.'

'I won't be able to stay long,' Mycroft said as he crawled into bed with his brother. 'It's my turn to look after Rupert while Gregory goes to work.'

'Doesn't matter. Just stay with me for now,' Sherlock whispered, snuggling up to Mycroft as best he could, a hand rubbing his extended stomach.

'Of course,' Mycroft murmured softly, gently rubbing Sherlock's stomach, humming softly to both Sherlock and the twins.

'How long will I be expected to give birth to fledglings for?' Sherlock whispered, his voice shaking.

'Until you can't carry them anymore,' Mycroft said solemnly. 'That usually doesn't happen for a good... ten to fifteen years.'

'I'm going to bear twenty to thirty fledglings?!' Sherlock groaned, his current fledglings kicking his stomach painfully.

'Yes,' Mycroft answered softly, gently massaging Sherlock's swollen stomach. 'Shhh little ones. Allow your father to have some rest. Shhh.'

'Will I get a break at all?' Sherlock asked, his voice thick with anguish, tears dribbling down his cheeks.

'I don't know. But most likely not. I'm sorry little brother.'

'I'm not gonna bloody cope with this!' Sherlock wailed. 'I'm gonna die from carrying so many children! '

'I'll talk with Michael and Uriel to see if I can get you a pardon for a while. So you and John and David can be together,' Mycroft promised. 'First thing tomorrow. Now sleep, little brother. Go to sleep.'

'Sing to us,' Sherlock whispered sleepily, his arm wrapping protectively over his stomach. Mycroft nodded and began softly singing an ancient lullaby, one their mother used to sing to him when he was young. He placed a hand on Sherlock's stomach to gauge the twins' activity while also checking their vitals.

Seven months along, both boys, though they wouldn't disclose their names to him. They were healthy and strong, and would probably arrive in a few months time. He continued to sing long after Sherlock and the boys fell asleep, making sure they stayed asleep as long as possible so Sherlock could get some much needed rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry about the rape scene. I know it was short, but it still merited a warning. 
> 
> Next chapter is just as traumatic as this one. So be prepared with a shock blanket and some tissues.
> 
> We'll see you next week. And be sure to heed the warnings on the next chapter.
> 
> ~TSA + MJCF


	33. Losing Sherlock again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good afternoon everyone. It is almost 3 p.m. EST as I type these words. Two hours left until the end of my shift. I'm so ready to be done for the day. I just want to go home. Doing nothing for 8 hours straight is pretty boring.
> 
> Anyway, this chapter is a bit heavy emotionally. So have tissues handy and maybe a warm blanket. There won't be endnotes this chapter because I don't want to spoil the cliffhanger. So I just wanted you all to know I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. And the next chapter should be up Sunday, Aug. 3. That's the next time I work all day and I'm allowed to bring my laptop to work. See you all then.
> 
> ~TSA + MJCF
> 
> MJCF: Sherlock, Mycroft  
> Me: John, Greg  
> Shared: David, Rupert
> 
>  
> 
> **Possible Trigger Warnings for this chapter (marked in bold): blood, gore, violence, murder/death.**
> 
>  
> 
> Other Warnings for this chapter: Johnlock feels, Johnlock smut, anal sex, piss kink and squick, dream sex, dream pregnancy, so much fucking tragedy.

Sherlock awoke with a start the next day. He'd actually been able to get some sleep, surprising considering, after Mycroft had left, the twins had been restless. He whined and rolled out of bed, struggling to his feet. He waddled out of the guest room and into the kitchen. Greg was in there, cradling a small boy in his arms.

'Hi,' Sherlock whispered, glancing down at his stomach in shame.

'Welcome back, Sherlock,' Greg grinned, feeding the boy some toast. 'Myc told me you were back. He's out trying to bargain for some time for you. I'm sorry that you had to do that. You hungry? I can cook a feast for you.'

Sherlock moaned softly at the thought of food, his belly rumbling loudly. 'You've been pregnant with one half angel. I'm pregnant with two full blooded angels. Did you even have to ask that question?'

'Oh shush you,' Greg smirked. 'Here. Meet your nephew. Rupert, this is your uncle Sherlock. Sherlock, this is Rupert. Say hi, sweetie.'

'Hi,' Rupert said shyly, burying his face in his daddy's shoulder.

'Hi, Rupert,' Sherlock smiled warmly. 'Well don't you look like the spitting image of my brother.'

'Daddy says I look like Papa,' Rupert said softly. 'David looks like you.'

'That's because he's my son,' Sherlock grinned. 'Are you and David friends?'

'Yeah,' Rupert grinned. 'He's been helping me practise stretching my wings. He's a good flyer. I wanna fly like him when I get bigger.'

'Oh yeah! Flying is a lot of fun.' Sherlock's grin turned into a sad smile.

'You don't have any wings,' Rupert said sadly, a small frown on his little face.

'No,' Sherlock mumbled softly. 'I don't have any wings.'

'Why?' Rupert asked, his voice small. 'Did they get hurt?'

'No.' Sherlock shook his head sadly. 'I'm just happier without them.'

'You don't look happy,' Rupert said softly, looking down at Sherlock's belly. 'You gonna have another baby? You got a big tummy.'

'I'm having two babies,' Sherlock whispered, his cheeks flushing in shame and mortification. 'They're kicking like mad. Want to feel?'

'Yeah!' Rupert squealed, making grabby hands at Sherlock. 'Wanna feel.'

'Be gentle,' Greg said as he passed the boy over. 'I'll get started on your first course,' he told Sherlock.

Sherlock licked his lips and moaned. 'You're actually cooking up a feast for me now then, huh?'

'Of course. I said I would.'

'Kick, babies! Kick!' Rupert said to Sherlock's stomach, pressing his hands all around, but the babies weren't kicking anymore. 'Why don't they kick?'

Sherlock frowned and placed a hand on his stomach. 'I don't know. Maybe they're just sleeping. I bet they got tired kicking up all that fuss.'

'But I wanted to feel them,' Rupert pouted.

'They'll nap and then wake up and start kicking again,' Greg assured his son. 'Just chat with Uncle Sherlock for a bit while I get him some food.'

'Ok,' Rupert said softly, reaching up to touch his uncle's hair. 'You have curly hair, like David.'

Sherlock hummed and kissed Rupert's head. 'I sure do, hun. Curly hair is cool though.' He glanced up at Lestrade and raised an eyebrow. 'You know, they say once you've given birth to one fledgling there's a chemical released in your body that makes you want more badly. I'd be careful if I were you. It's written all over you.'

'I don't want another one until Rupert is at least one,' Greg said as he began preparing Sherlock an omelette. 'You should worry about John though. He's been missing you something fierce, and I can see the desperation on him. He wants you to impregnate him again soon.'

Sherlock laughed. 'Oh come off it. We've talked about having children, but desperate to be up the duff with my spawn?'

'You haven't seen him, Sherlock,' Greg said as he poured the eggs into the now hot pan. 'He's been spending so much time with David lately I think it's reminded him of how much he misses you and wants a family with you. If you two are gonna see each other soon, be warned. He'll probably be overly enthusiastic.'

'I can't impregnate him,' Sherlock frowned. 'I'll never manage to get the time off the breeding programme to be there for him.'

'Myc is trying to get you some time off,' Greg said, adding mushrooms and some meats to the omelette. 'Seeing as this will be your first delivery it could be quite tiring. I was asleep for a week after Rupert finally arrived. So he's trying to get you at least a month off before you're forced to go back.' He paused and smiled sadly at Sherlock. 'I'm sorry, by the way. It's truly awful that you have to do this.'

'It's just life.' Sherlock shrugged. 'Mycroft will be expected to have children too. You just wait. You'll have to deal with a pregnant Mycroft very soon.'

'Yeah. Not exactly looking forward to that,' Greg laughed softly. 'A pregnant Mycroft? God. That'll be hell.'

'Being pregnant isn't so bad. I just ache all over.' Sherlock poked his belly. His babies were still quiet. 'And I feel really fat too. Also, not looking forward to the birth. Angels have to actually give birth. Our stomach kinda splits open and we have to bloody push like a woman. It's not at all dignified. I imagine Mycroft will be much worse than me.'

'Ok, I didn't need that mental image while I'm preparing you food,' Greg groaned, making a 'bleagh' noise. He folded the omelette over and sprinkled some cheese on top before passing it over to Sherlock. 'Course one. Eat up.'

Sherlock chuckled softly and waddled over to the table, placing Rupert down on a chair before sitting down with a loud groan. 'Thanks for this, Greg.'

'You're welcome,' Greg said, smiling gently as he got out a can of soup and began heating it in a pot. 'Do you want anything, Rupert? A sandwich? Some macaroni perhaps?'

Sherlock watched his nephew as he dug into his omelette. He seemed upset about something. On the verge of tears almost, refusing to answer his daddy.

'Rupert? Are you okay?'

'Your babies hate me!' the boy wailed, fat crocodile tears falling down his cheeks. 'They won't move for me cuz I'm different!'

'Different?' Sherlock frowned and paused his eating. 'How are you different?'

'Cuz I have a human daddy and an angel one!' Rupert wailed. 'They don't like me cuz I'm not all angel!'

'Rupert, shhh.' His babies were kicking up a fuss at the high pitched squealing. 'You're all the more special because you're part human.' Rupert continued to scream and his babies were becoming more distressed. One kicked out at a lung and he gasped. 'Ow! Ow! Oh god!'

'Rupert. Honey,' Greg said softly, scooping up the crying boy in his arms. 'Shhh. Shhh, baby. It's ok. Shhh.' He started rocking Rupert gently, singing to him softly. Rupert calmed gradually, his cries changing into soft sobs and then choked sniffles.

Sherlock grunted and gasped loudly as his babies readjusted themselves again. 'Oh god. Stop moving you two.'

'Just eat, Sherlock,' Greg instructed. 'I'm gonna put Rupert down for his nap.' Rupert hiccuped and yawned, rubbing his eyes.

'Ok,' Sherlock choked out, slowly digging into his food in the hope his fledglings would both calm down.

Greg took Rupert to his crib and placed him down gently, making sure his wings were in a comfortable place.

'Sleep well little man,' he whispered, pressing a kiss to his son's head. 'Daddy loves you.' Rupert gave a little grunt of acknowledgement and Greg draped a light blanket over him. He left and went back to the kitchen, Sherlock sitting at the table and clutching his stomach, his face contorted in pain.

'Still kicking up a fuss?' Greg asked, returning to the stove to tend to the soup.

'Do you think I'm clutching my stomach and writhing in agony because they've finally made peace with me? Yes, they're bloody kicking up a fuss.' Sherlock cried out as one kicked his kidney, his eyes watering.

'They quieted when Rupert was around. Want to hold him while he naps?' Greg glanced back at Sherlock and smiled softly when he saw John lurking in the shadows.

'No. It's fine. I'm sure they'll calm down soon,' Sherlock wheezed loudly. 'I wouldn't want to upset him again either.'

'Alright,' Greg sighed softly. 'Here's your first bowl of soup, second course. I'll keep the pot on should you want more. Anything in particular you want as your main course? And don't give me the smart arsed remark of "food."'

Sherlock's stomach rumbled loudly and Sherlock whined. 'A roast dinner? Ice cream? And fish fingers and custard? God babies, make up your mind!'

'I can get you some ice cream after you finish your soup,' Greg offered. 'Don't eat that too fast or you'll burn the inside of your mouth.'

'I won't.' Sherlock frowned. 'Why do you keep looking over my shoulder?'

'No reason,' Greg smirked as John came into view.

'Sherlock?' he croaked out, his voice breaking. 'Is it really you?'

Sherlock froze and turned slowly, blinking in surprise at the owner of the voice. 'John?'

'Sherlock?' John's eyes filled with tears of joy. 'Oh my god. Sherlock. You're back. You're finally back!'

Sherlock nodded and swallowed thickly. 'Can you help me up, Greg? I want to give my fiancé a hug.'

'No, you stay,' John said softly. 'I'll come to you.' He walked forward briskly and sat down next to Sherlock, just staring at him for a moment. He finally wrapped his arms around him in a tender embrace, crying softly.

'It's so good to see you again, love,' he whispered brokenly.

'It's so good to see you too.' Sherlock squeezed John back. 'As you can see, a lot has changed.' He patted his stomach. 'You're still handsome as ever though I see.'

'A bit more haggard though,' John sniffled, a small smirk on his lips. 'David keeps me pretty busy. He'll be wanting to see you too, but he's napping now. He's still just a one-year-old, even if he is part angel. He needs his naps. I could use one too if you want to join me when you're done eating.'

'I'd love to.' Sherlock smiled warmly at John. 'We have a lot to catch up on.'

'Yeah. We do,' John grinned. 'Now eat your soup.'

Sherlock blew on his bowl of soup and began guzzling it down, so hungry he could eat a horse.

'That's it my pregnant angel,' John cooed, gently massaging Sherlock's stomach. 'Eat every last drop. Feed those fledglings.'

Sherlock stopped his spoonful of soup mid air, his eyes widening. 'Bloody hell. You really are broody, aren't you?'

'I've missed you,' John said simply, guiding the spoon of soup toward Sherlock's mouth.

Sherlock swallowed the soup and moaned softly. 'I've heard you're broody, and you want me to... you know... as soon as I'm available.'

'Marriage first, then baby,' John said, more to remind himself than Sherlock. 'But yes. I'm broody and horny as hell. God I missed you.'

'As soon as these fledglings are out of me we're getting married then I'll shag you till you're knocked up and I'll shag you some more,' Sherlock said around a mouthful of hot soup.

'God yes,' John moaned, shivering. 'Now finish eating so we can go to bed. Of will you be needing more than soup and an omelette?'

'Right now, all I need is you,' Sherlock whispered huskily.

'Go you two,' Greg smirked. 'I'll prepare a big roast for dinner. You two go catch up and spend some time alone. You need it.'

Sherlock held a hand out to John. 'Help me up?' John nodded and helped Sherlock to his feet, smoothing a hand over his swollen belly.

'You look ready to pop,' he observed. 'Which hopefully means we'll be able to get married soon.'

'Hopefully.' Sherlock rubbed his belly and frowned. 'They're starting to hurt me now.'

'Means they're almost ready,' John grinned. 'It was the same for me with David. Now where's your room? Let's take a nap first, have some dream sex, and then some real sex when we wake.'

'This way,' Sherlock mumbled, his cheeks bright red as he began waddling to his bedroom. John smiled softly and placed a comforting hand at the small of Sherlock's back.

'Don't be ashamed, love,' he whispered. 'You're pregnant. Waddling is part of the package.'

Sherlock blushed harder. 'I'm ginormous. And it looks ridiculous seeing as I've got such a slim and tall frame.'

'You do look a bit odd with that large belly on your skinny frame,' John admitted, 'but you're pregnant. Forced or not you're carrying two new angels who will become guardians one day. And that's amazing.'

Sherlock smiled softly, brightening up a little as he entered his bedroom and plopped onto his bed. He shifted nervously and glanced up at John with sheepish eyes.

'Make love with me right now.'

'Alright,' John grinned, dropping down to his knees and opening Sherlock's. He nuzzled Sherlock's thigh and sighed happily, a warm, contented smile on his face. Sherlock moaned softly and wiggled his hips as best he could.

'I've missed you so much. I– take me, John. Just take me.'

'Gladly,' John purred, kissing the inside of Sherlock's thigh tenderly. 'I missed you so much. And you have no idea how much it means to me that you've still got that coat.'

'Only because they let me keep it. I turned up outside my brother's yesterday with no recollection of my time at the factory.' He stroked his stomach and pouted. 'Waking up heavily pregnant was quite a shock.'

'Well, let's consider that a blessing in disguise,' John said softly, rising up to kiss Sherlock properly for the first time in months. 'You probably wouldn't have wanted to remember being raped, and they probably don't want you to remember to go and blab about the ill-treatment of angels.'

Sherlock sighed happily against John's lips, a small hum forming in his throat. 'It'd be a disaster if the news got out. Our whole society would collapse.'

'Let's not talk about that now,' John murmured against Sherlock's lips. 'Now's the time for love making.'

'Mmm. Yes. Love making,' Sherlock whispered back. 'Though I'm not at all sure my body will please you any more.'

John smirked and placed Sherlock's hand on his crotch, his clothed cock twitching and throbbing through the fabric of his jeans. 'You tell me if your body doesn't please me anymore.'

'I...' Sherlock frowned and clutched his stomach with the hand that wasn't groping John. 'I'm fat and unsightly. This really works for you?'

'It's still you,' John moaned softly, rutting against Sherlock's hand. 'Though I have to admit seeing you like this, helpless and completely at my mercy turns me on something fierce.'

Sherlock blushed bright red. 'You like the fact I'm so round with child that I can barely move?'

'A bit.' John paused. 'Is that not good?'

'No.' Sherlock swallowed and shook his head, rubbing his stomach. 'I don't have a problem with it.'

'Oh. Ok. Good,' John grinned softly. 'Let's get your clothes off so I can see you fully.' He gently eased the great coat off Sherlock's shoulders and hung it up. He then smoothed his hands over Sherlock's stomach, feeling the twins kick against his hands. 'They're feisty ones, aren't they?'

'Tell me about it,' Sherlock huffed. 'They're doing my head in.' He shifted awkwardly and groaned. 'Make them stop, John.'

'Shhh, little ones,' John hushed softly, massaging Sherlock's swollen belly. 'Shhh. Be nice to your father. Relax so he and I can spend some time together.'

'Oh.' Sherlock's lips formed a small 'o' and he moaned loudly. 'They like that. Mmm.'

John continued to massage Sherlock's stomach and began humming to the babies softly. He pressed a kiss to Sherlock's stomach just above his belly button, a baby pressing up against his lips gently.

Sherlock sighed happily and stroked a hand through John's hair. 'I can't wait to have our own fledglings.'

'You should see David,' John murmured. 'He's gotten so big. And he gets more adventurous while flying every day. He's trying to do loops now.'

'Fantastic.' Sherlock smiled weakly and sniffled. 'Can we not talk about flying right now though?'

'Right. Sorry.' John continued to hum to the fledglings, feeling them relaxing as he massaged Sherlock's stomach gently.

'You realise that there's a distinct possibility that we'll both be pregnant within a month of each other.' Sherlock relaxed slightly, closing his eyes as he listened to John's humming.

'Yes, I know,' John mumbled against Sherlock's stomach. The twins were completely relaxed now. 'Though that might not be so bad. Us being pregnant together. We could compare pregnancy pains and cravings. It could be fun, in a completely ridiculous sort of way.'

'I suppose your mother will see it that way,' Sherlock muttered with a sigh. 'I presume you told her your intent on having more children with me?' His eyes flickered open. 'I've noticed you occasionally rub your stomach, as though you feel empty. It's likely due to the chemical that would have been released when David was conceived. It makes you want to breed like mad.'

John blushed and removed his hand from his stomach.

'Yes. I do feel the urge to have another child. And it was actually David who blurted to my mum our intention of marrying and having more children. She didn't react well, but she's calmed down reasonably well now.'

Sherlock sat up slightly and looked at John with inquisitive eyes. 'How many fledglings do you want with me, John?'

'I don't know,' John shrugged. 'But three at least. And we've already got one.'

'Odd numbers?' Sherlock tutted, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. 'Make it four.' He stretched slightly and rubbed John's stomach fondly.

'Angels have a thing for even numbers?' John smirked, humming as Sherlock stroked his stomach.

Sherlock smirked. 'Can't stand odd numbers. So two fledglings or four.' Sherlock stroked John's belly all over, the man getting more and more aroused.

'Four,' John moaned loudly. 'Four babies. Oh god Sherlock I want to carry your children. Please!'

'Yes! God yes! Carry my children! Let me impregnate you over and over and to see you round with my children!'

'Yes! Yes!' John cried, his cock throbbing in his jeans. 'Fucking take me! Oh, wait, you can yet. Then let me take you. Strip. Quickly.'

Sherlock stripped from his clothes, tossing them to the ground. He groaned loudly at the sight of his protruding stomach and groaned even louder with frustration when he realised his belly was so large it stopped his cock from becoming fully erect.

'Oh my poor, pregnant angel,' John cooed, grabbing Sherlock's prick and stroking it languidly. 'Your babies stop you from getting fully hard. It must be so frustrating.'

Sherlock whimpered, his hips attempting to buck but failing. 'It's very frustrating indeed.'

'Poor baba,' John teased lightly, kneeling down to suck the head of Sherlock's cock into his mouth.

'Not as frustrating as you,' Sherlock muttered as his hips continued to flail helplessly.

John laughed and released Sherlock. 'Oh, I'm sorry. Do you just want me to fuck you now?'

Sherlock glared playfully at John. 'Fuck me and be quick about it.'

'No. Not quick,' John purred, sucking his fingers into his mouth and coating them liberally with saliva.

'Please, John,' Sherlock whispered hoarsely, tears pricking his eyes. 'I need you.'

John eased Sherlock back and spread his legs, swirling his fingers around his tight entrance.

'Relax, love,' John whispered softly, pressing kisses to his large belly. 'Relax.'

'Easier said than done,' Sherlock whispered, his belly shuddering with each little tremor of anticipation travelling through his body. John hummed softly against Sherlock's belly. He gently eased a finger inside the tight entrance, going nice and slow to give Sherlock time to adjust.

'Oh,' Sherlock murmured, pushing back against the finger. 'That's nice.' John hummed and pushed his finger in to the first knuckle.

'Oh god!' Sherlock moaned. 'Take me!'

'You're still very tight,' John moaned softly, pumping his finger in and out slowly.

'It doesn't matter,' Sherlock moaned out. 'Just take me. I can handle it.'

'Nice and easy,' John murmured softly. He added a second finger and scissored them gently.

Sherlock panted out something incoherent and wiggled against those two fingers. 'Please,' he choked out.

'I don't want to rush this, Sherlock,' John said softly. 'I don't want to hurt you.'

'I need you so much though,' Sherlock panted heavily, his body covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

'I know, love. I know,' John said softly, easing in another finger. 'And I'll be inside you soon. Promise. Just want you nice and open so I don't hurt you.'

Sherlock grunted and pushed back on all three fingers. 'Don't care. Just bloody get inside of me now.'

' _I_  care, Sherlock,' John said sternly. 'You're pregnant and I don't want to harm your fledglings. Now stop wriggling and let me finish preparing you.'

Sherlock stilled his hips and sighed, closing his eyes as John finished preparing him.

'That's my good man,' John crooned softly as he pulled his fingers away. He licked his palm and stroked himself back to full hardness, lubricating himself before positioning himself at Sherlock's now gaping hole. 'Ready?'

'As I'll ever be,' Sherlock whispered, his eyes snapping back open to gaze into John's.

'I love you,' John whispered, pushing the head of his cock in gently. Sherlock moaned and grabbed John's shoulders, pulling him against him till John's well toned torso was flush against his belly. John moaned and pushed in deeper, Sherlock's tight heat sucking him in. He placed his hands on Sherlock's stomach and massaged gently, every now and again feeling a fledgling bump against him as they fidgeted in their sleep.

Sherlock placed his hands over John's on his stomach and grinned. 'You're going to have to do all the moving. I can barely wiggle my hips. You like that though. That I'm heavily pregnant and practically bed bound. That turns you on like nothing else.'

'Yes,' John grinned, pushing all the way in. 'I like seeing you at my mercy.'

Sherlock huffed. 'You would have bloody killed me if I'd said that to you whilst you were carrying David.'

'It'll be different next time,' John grinned. 'I rather like being at your mercy as well. Round with your child. It's a shame really that you'll never be able to be round with mine.'

Sherlock bit his lip and blushed. 'That would be fantastic.' He rubbed his stomach and frowned. 'I'm sure there's something we can do to arrange that. Angel magic or something. We could both be carrying each other's children at the same time.'

'An experiment for a later date,' John said softly, rubbing Sherlock's stomach softly. He eased out of Sherlock and pushed back in sharply, gasps coming from both of them.

'I forgot how wonderful pregnant sex was. It's even better now I'm the pregnant one.' Sherlock shifted slightly, his belly bouncing up and down.

'Mmm. It's quite– fuck! Oh god this is amazing!' John moaned loudly as he began thrusting into Sherlock at a steady rate.

'John,' Sherlock whimpered, blushing bright red. 'I forgot to... piss. Oh god. They're both bouncing on my bladder. Go slower John. Make them have to wait.'

'Oh fuck,' John moaned as he forced himself to slow down. 'Oh god yes. Hold it for as long as you can. Then piss all over us.'

'Oh god! Yes!' Sherlock screamed, his body flailing helplessly, a hand moving protectively over his stomach as the fledglings kicked and bounced about in protest.

'Fucking hell I missed this,' John gasped out, moving a bit harder. 'I missed  _you_. Oh fuck! Oh my god that's it! Right there! Oh god I'm not gonna last long!'

'John!' Sherlock cried out. 'I'm gonna cum! Oh god!' John grasped Sherlock's cock and stroked him in time with his thrusts, feeling the organ throb and twitch in his grasp.

'Cum,' he ordered gently. Sherlock gasped and his body arched slightly as he came with a cry of John's name. He came in thick strips and with one last nudge from the twins began to piss heavily. John moaned and whimpered as he continued to move inside Sherlock, wanting to cum so bad but not wanting it to end. But as soon as Sherlock began pissing he lost control. He came with a shout of Sherlock's name, pulsing long and hard inside him.

Sherlock kissed John sloppily as John continued to cum. 'Piss,' he ordered with a growl. 'Piss inside of me. Now.'

John let go with a strangled moan of relief, his body trembling as he emptied his bladder inside his lover's arse.

'Good man,' Sherlock purred loudly, collapsing back against the mattress, groaning. 'Oh god. The twins aren't happy. Shit! Stop moving little ones! Please just stop!'

John collapsed beside Sherlock, panting heavily. He rubbed a hand over Sherlock's stomach and hummed between gasps for air, soothing the twins slowly.

'Thank you,' Sherlock whispered softly, a hand clasping John's over his stomach.

'You're very welcome,' John mumbled softly. 'I'm exhausted. Nap with me?'

'Mmm. Sure thing. It's not as if I can move at all anyway.' Sherlock hummed and kissed the tip of John's ear. 'Help me get in a better position to sleep in though.'

John nodded and helped Sherlock lay back against the pillows, turning him on his side to take the weight of the babies off his back. He curled up behind him, an arm draping protectively over the restless fledglings.

'I love you,' he whispered softly.

'I love you too.' Sherlock smiled warmly at John, his eyes slipping shut. 'See you in a moment.' John snored in reply, burrowing his head between Sherlock's shoulder blades.

_When he woke in his dream he was in their little house in Italy, exactly as he remembered it, though thankfully he wasn't pregnant this time. He rolled over and smiled at Sherlock, who was just appearing in the dream, thin and winged once more._

_'Hey,' John said softly, brushing some curls off Sherlock's forehead._

_Sherlock grinned at John and shuffled over to him, attacking his lips with a hot kiss. 'Hey yourself.'_

_'Recognise where we are?' John asked, smirking._

_'Yes, I do,' Sherlock hummed. 'Mind telling me why we're here?'_

_'It's my new calm dream space,' John explained. 'Though I do occasionally go back to the meadow. It's just this place is real and has happier memories attached to it. Apart from my bad moods that is.'_

_'You have good memories here?' Sherlock raised an eyebrow. 'I'm afraid to say I don't.'_

_'Why not?' John frowned. 'This is where we rekindled our love after I freaked when you killed those boys. This is where David was born. This is where I pissed myself all over you on the couch. I was happy here. Oh. Maybe it's the pregnancy hormones talking. Because I associate this place with being pregnant I think it's a happy place.'_

_'In this house, I tried to kill myself. In this house, you ignored me and made me feel so alone, you threw hate at me at every chance, and I became seriously ill, and when you awoke you hated me with a passion. Not nice memories at all for me.'_

_'Definitely the pregnancy hormones then,' John said sadly. The scene instantly changed to the meadow, John's dream wanting him to be happy and not morose._

_'Thank you,' Sherlock whispered sadly, rolling onto his stomach to hide his broken smile. John sighed and sat up, looking at Sherlock's imaginary wings. He whisked them away and curled up along Sherlock's back, hugging him tight._

_'I really missed you,' he whispered, pressing a soft kiss between Sherlock's shoulder blades._

_Sherlock shivered and moaned softly. 'Missed you too, dear,' he whispered._

_'I want you to take me,' he whispered huskily down Sherlock's ear. 'I've missed having your cock up my arse. Fuck me into this mattress.'_

_Sherlock turned over onto his back, grinning like an idiot. 'Ride me.'_

_'God yes,' John groaned, straddling Sherlock's lap and guiding his cock inside. 'Fuck!'_

_Sherlock bucked his hips upward and instantly began thrusting in and out of John like a mad man. John cried out and bounced and writhed on Sherlock's cock as he fucked him, his entire body trembling as he rode him hard._

_'Yes!' Sherlock cried out, moving faster and more harshly. 'Cum for me John! Cum for me!'_

_'Sherlock!' John screamed as he came all over his angel's chest, his entire body trembling._

_'Almost there,' Sherlock grunted, his hips jerking up three more times before he came powerfully. John moaned and continued trembling over Sherlock, his body spasming with aftershocks of pleasure as Sherlock came inside him._

_Sherlock groaned when he finally stopped cumming. 'Wow. Jesus, that was good.'_

_'I feel empty,' John frowned, rubbing his stomach softly._

_Sherlock smiled and laughed. 'This is a dream, you know. Anything could happen. I could impregnate you a thousand times in the space of a second.'_

_'I don't want to carry a thousand babies,' John pouted. 'I'd die.'_

_'I was being metaphorical,' Sherlock sighed, rolling his eyes._

_'I know,' John grinned, a playful glint in his eyes. 'I was just messing with you.'_

_'Wanna make dream babies?' Sherlock grinned, wiggling his eyebrows._

_'Yes,' John moaned. 'God yes. Fill me with your imaginary children.'_

_'With pleasure.' Sherlock grinned deviously, his cock hardening again. He began to thrust into John, his whole body beginning to glow red._

_'Yes! Yes!' John cried, watching as the red light began to filter into his stomach. 'Yes! God yes! Fill me with your child!'_

_Sherlock placed a hand on John's stomach and thrust harder, the red light slipping into John completely. 'John!' he cried out as he came for a second time._

_'Sherlock!' John cried as his stomach steadily began growing with a dream child. Sherlock grunted loudly and pressed his hands against John's stomach, his eyes twinkling in delight as John grew impossibly round. John hummed and pressed his stomach closer to Sherlock's hands._

_'Love you.' Sherlock kissed John softly and smiled against his lips. 'Feeling better now? Less empty?'_

_'Oh yes,' John sighed, a contented grin on his face. 'Much better and so very full.'_

_'Is our dream baby moving?' Sherlock asked, kissing John's belly tenderly._

_'Mmm, yes,' John hummed, the baby pressing up against its daddy's kiss._

_'Aren't you a cutie pie?' Sherlock cooed to John's belly. He laughed when he felt their dream baby kicking out lightly. John laughed but frowned suddenly when he realised he didn't want to see the dream baby, because then he'd wake up beside a pregnant Sherlock and not pregnant himself. He whimpered and a tear slipped down his cheek._

_Sherlock frowned and captured the tear under his thumb. 'Hey. What's wrong? Talk to me.'_

_'It won't be real when I wake up,' John choked out. 'I won't be pregnant with your child!'_

_'Shhh.' Sherlock hushed John's sobs with a kiss. 'It might not be real right now, but within a few months it'll be very real. And we can face the joys of telling people we've conceived again, and the baby will be adorable.'_

_'I just want this to be real so bad,' John sobbed, holding his pregnant belly in his hands. 'And I need it, Sherlock.I need it. God, it's like a fucking drug. The hormones are fucking killing me and I just want to get knocked up so fucking bad.'_

_'I promise you that as soon as I'm able to I'll knock you up. I will. You can have as many children as you want with me. As long as it's an even number I don't really mind.' Sherlock massaged John's stomach gently. 'We'll make lots of babies. Ok?'_

_'Ok,' John choked out, nodding frantically. 'Ok.'_

_'You know, I should feel guilty,' Sherlock mumbled against John's ear. 'You should be out enjoying teenage years and you should be preparing for being a doctor. Instead you just want to get knocked up over and over with my babies.'_

_'Yes,' John sobbed out softly. 'I'll still become a doctor one day. I just want another baby first. And to be married to you.'_

_'We need to tell your mum,' Sherlock said softly, kissing John tenderly. 'I don't feel comfortable lying to her again.'_

_'She knows we want to get married and have more fledglings,' John said softly, rubbing his belly softly. 'David blurted it to her when you were in hospital after you fell. He can read our thoughts, you know.'_

_'I know,' Sherlock whispered softly. 'He learnt that bad habit from me I'm afraid.'_

_'I live with a couple mind readers,' John sighed, a small smile on his face as he shook his head. 'My thoughts are never going to be private anymore, are they?'_

_'Never,' Sherlock smirked. 'Though that's not necessarily a bad thing. I'll always know what you want me to do to please you in the bedroom.'_

_'Well, when you put it that way,' John grinned, wriggling on Sherlock's cock, which was still inside him._

_Sherlock grunted and shifted his hips upward. 'Kinda hard like this. You're so darn heavy with my child.'_

_'I can fix that,' John smirked, shrinking his belly down to normal. 'We'll fill it for real soon.'_

_'That's better,' Sherlock smiled gently. 'Though I preferred you round with my child.'_

_'Next time for real though,' John groaned, rocking back on Sherlock's prick. 'Promise. I'll be round with your child soon enough.'_

_'Good to hear it,' Sherlock purred, picking up a frantic pace._

_'Yes,' John moaned, allowing Sherlock to fuck him without mercy. 'Yes! Oh god don't stop!'_

_'Cum for me again,' Sherlock ordered, his voice husky and warm against John's ear._

_'Yes, yes, oh god, Sherlock!' John cried as he came again, spilling all over Sherlock's creamy chest. Sherlock cried out, spilling into John, seeing stars dancing before his eyes. John collapsed against Sherlock and burrowed against his chest, humming in content._

_'I love you.'_

_'Love you,' Sherlock mumbled quietly. 'Now wake up and give my belly some much needed attention.'_

_'Ok,' John agreed, nodding slowly. 'Just give me a moment. I want to enjoy this a little longer.'_

_Sherlock whined softly. 'Please. I can feel the twins kicking.'_

_'Ugh. Fine,' John sighed, rolling his eyes._

He slowly began to wake up, the empty feeling strong due to his dream. He swallowed down a sob and moved to Sherlock's belly, singing softly to the twins whilst rubbing the swollen flesh gently. Sherlock slowly awoke and smiled at John, his eyes filled with love and admiration.

'I love you,' he whispered gently.

'Love you too,' John said softly, pressing a kiss to his angel's pregnant belly. 'You should eat something. That's why they're kicking up a fuss. They could probably smell the roast. I certainly can.'

'I'm not even–' Sherlock was cut off by a loud growl made by his belly. '–hungry.' He sighed. 'Guess I was wrong. Help me to get up and to get dressed?'

'Certainly my dear,' John grinned. He stood and helped Sherlock sit up. He pulled a shirt on over his head before searching for trousers. Even pyjama trousers would do, but he wasn't finding anything. 'Do you not have trousers?'

'I told you' Sherlock whispered sadly. 'I came straight here from the factory. So... no.'

John frowned deeply, his eyes wet with tears. He looked up at Sherlock sadly, his bottom lip trembling slightly. 'I'm sorry,' he whispered brokenly. 'I wish you didn't have to do this. It's my fault you're here. If we hadn't started sleeping together you'd still be my angel and you'd be able to fly and I'm so sorry.'

'Excuse me, I still am your angel,' Sherlock joked lightly and waddled over to John, wrapping him up in a hug. 'And I wouldn't change any of what has happened, even if it did mean gaining my wings back.'

John cried softly and hugged Sherlock as tight as he dared. 'I just feel so guilty! Like I made you fall. And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.'

'I chose to fall,' Sherlock whispered down John's ear. 'And I'm so very glad that I did.'

'I just wish you didn't have to do this,' John said brokenly, placing a hand on Sherlock's belly.

'Hey, it's not too bad.' Sherlock placed his hand over John's. 'I kind of like carrying little ones.'

'Will the pregnancy craving hormone be released in you too?' John asked softly.

'Oh god,' Sherlock groaned. 'Probably. I'll just want to breed till I die.'

'No.' John felt fresh tears fall down his cheeks. 'Don't.'

'It's not something I'll be able to help,' Sherlock whispered sadly. 'I'm in this for at least fifteen years... or until I die, if I don't make it that long.'

'No!' John cried, sobbing into Sherlock's chest. 'No! Don't say that! I can't imagine–' John's throat felt tight, like he couldn't breathe. Oh no. His asthma. He hadn't had an attack this bad since he was at least fourteen. He gasped for air like a fish out of water. He could feel his face turning red as he struggled to breathe.

 _Help! Sherlock, help!_  he cried telepathically. Sherlock reacted instantly, moving John to the bed and sitting down beside him.

'It's ok, John,' he hushed, tilting John's head back and leaning down to blow a huge breath into his mouth.

 _Not helping!_  John gasped and spluttered at the air being forced into him.  _Inhaler! Need my inhaler!_

Sherlock pulled away quickly. 'Shit. Where is it? Do you even bloody have one here?'

_At home. With mum. Am I turning blue?_

'Jesus! Yes, you're turning blue! And... I can't get to your house. I can't transport myself anywhere anymore. And my brother's out.' Sherlock stood and grabbed his coat so he didn't look quite so naked. He rubbed a hand over his belly and took a deep breath. 'I'm going to try to run but I'm pregnant and... I'm so sorry!' He hurriedly waddled out of the bedroom, crashing head first with Greg.

'Whoa!' Greg cried, rubbing his forehead. 'What's the rush, Sherlock?'

'It's John! He can't breathe! He's blue in face! And I can't help him because I'm pregnant so I can hardly run to his house... and I can't travel there either. What the fuck do I do?!'

'Asthma attack?' Greg guessed. 'I'll go to his house and get what he needs. You stay here and make sure he doesn't suffocate.'

'How do I keep him from suffocating?!' Sherlock cried, panicked. 'Oh god!' He grabbed his stomach, panting heavily. 'My stomach hurts.'

'Tilt his head back to open up his windpipe,' Greg instructed. 'And you should lay on your side and try to relax. Your panic is setting off the babies. I'll be back as soon as I can. Promise.'

'Thanks,' Sherlock gasped out, waddling back to his room. He plopped down on the bed and followed Greg's instructions, whimpering loudly as the babies continued to show distress.

Greg got into his car and sped away toward John's house. Mycroft had given him the address seeing as Rupert and David had become the best of friends and had frequent play dates. So, seeing as John couldn't drive, it was up to Greg to pick them up and take them to a field where David could fly and show Rupert what he'd need to do so he could fly later in his life.

He parked outside the house and got out, leaving the car running. He banged on the door and explained what was happening to Mrs Watson when she opened the door. She dashed up to get John's emergency inhaler and gave it back to Greg, telling him to save her boy. He nodded and dashed back to his car, speeding off and turning his sirens on as he raced back home.

'I swear if you die on me I'll bloody kill you,' Sherlock sobbed softly, pulling John further against him. God he hoped Greg would show up soon. John was barely breathing.

 _I'm scared,_  John thought softly, his mind fogging from lack of oxygen.

 _You're not the only one who's scared,_ Sherlock thought back.  _My babies are hurting me because I'm so terrified. Please try to breathe. Please, John._

 _I_ _ **am**_ _trying._  He gasped sharply and started coughing.  _Oh god. Everything is so tingly. Where the bloody hell is Greg?!_

_I don't know. Please don't give up on me yet. I can't live without you. I love you! I need you!_

_I love you too. Fuck. It hurts! My vision is blurring Sherlock! I'm so scared! I don't wanna die!_

_You're not going to die! You know why? Because we're getting married and we're going to have lots and lots of babies together. And if that isn't something to live for, what is?_

_I can't breathe!_  John cried. He gasped for air and began flailing helplessly on the bed. That was when Greg burst in, hopelessly out of breath, and rushed over to the bed. He opened John's mouth and then closed it around the inhaler, pressing the button to release the medicine. John stopped flailing and took over once he got control of his limbs.

Sherlock closed his eyes, fat tears rolling down his cheeks. He grabbed his stomach, his whole body shaking. He'd nearly lost his John. God. His lovely John had almost died! When John finally caught his breath he lay back against the bed, sweating and panting as he breathed normally again. He looked over to Sherlock and grasped his hand weakly, squeezing to assure him he was ok.

Sherlock snapped his eyes open and glanced over to John. 'What was that about? You terrified me. I thought... thought I was going to lose you.'

'Asthma attack – brought on by – traumatic stress,' John gasped out, taking another deep breath of the inhaler. 'Imagined you – dying due to – birthing too many babies.'

'You almost died because of me?' Sherlock squeaked. 'Oh my god! I almost killed you!'

'Relax – twins – stress,' John said between deep breaths. He placed a hand over Sherlock's stomach and the twins kicked out violently.

'They won't stop kicking,' Sherlock choked out. 'I don't feel good. They're really hurting me.'

'Shhh little ones,' John said softly, massaging Sherlock's stomach with both hands. 'Shhh. It's ok. Relax. You're hurting your daddy quite a lot.'

Sherlock sighed as the tiny war in his belly came to a standstill. 'Thank you. Now, I don't know about you but I rather fancy a walk to get some fresh air after that little incident.'

'You should eat something first. I know I'm starving after that little episode.'

Sherlock shook his head. 'The roast potatoes aren't cooked yet. At least I can't smell them. Plus I feel a little sick now. I need some air.'

'Ok. I'll grab an apple or something.' He suddenly smirked deviously. 'And a pair of Mycroft's trousers for you to use.'

'Hey! I'm not that fat!' Sherlock glared at his belly and poked it. 'Ok. Maybe I am quite fat.'

'You aren't fat. You're pregnant,' John corrected. 'Be back in a jiffy.' He kissed Sherlock softly and went up to Mycroft and Greg's room, grabbing the first pair of trousers he saw. He then raced back downstairs and to Sherlock's room, grinning like an idiot.

'You look like you just committed a crime.' Sherlock giggled loudly, sitting up with a soft groan. 'Come on then. Let's see if they fit.'

John put the trousers on the bed and helped Sherlock turn so his legs dangled off the bed. He then helped him get his legs in the trousers before helping him stand to pull them up the rest of the way.

'They're a little snug,' Sherlock frowned. 'But they'll do I suppose.'

'Ok. Let's go get some air.' John clasped Sherlock's hand and lead him out to the kitchen. 'Sherlock and I are going out,' he told Greg. 'We'll be back in time for dinner.'

'Ok,' Greg said, a little distracted as he balanced Rupert on one hip and stirred the gravy with his free hand. John grabbed an apple and bit into it, leading Sherlock out into the evening air.

'Where do you want to go? Bear in mind I'm heavily pregnant and I can barely move.' Sherlock grunted and rubbed his belly.

'Let's just walk as far as you want to. I don't feel like going anywhere in particular.'

'Ok. Hmm. We'll just go a little out of the grounds and then we'll turn back.'

'Ok. Sounds like a plan.' John closed Sherlock's great coat over his stomach and looped his arm through his. They slowly made their way out the gates and began walking.

**TRIGGER WARNING: VIOLENCE, BLOOD, GORE, AND MURDER AHEAD**

Sherlock heard a sharp yell of 'Fallen angel!' from close by and he froze, his happiness quickly draining from his face, replaced by cold fear.

'Oh god,' he whispered. 'A hunt.'

'Not those church buggers,' John growled, turning to face the hunters. 'You stay away from my angel!'

Sherlock whimpered as the hunters continued to advance on them. They were glaring at his middle hatefully. Oh god. The twins. They knew about the twins.

John growled menacingly and stood in front of Sherlock protectively. 'Sherlock, get back to the manor. Now!'

Sherlock shook his head. 'I can't leave you!'

The ring leader of the religious group surged forwards, knocking John out the way. Sherlock cried out as he felt something sharp enter his stomach and he toppled back onto the floor.

'Sherlock!' John cried. 'Get away from him you bastards!' He leapt up on the back of the leader and began tearing at his hair, biting into his neck and kicking at him with his heels.

Sherlock found another sharp pain hitting his stomach and another. 'Fuck!'

'Stop it! Stop it!' John screamed. He cried out when he heard a loud bang and suddenly felt a sharp pain in his shoulder. He fell off the leader and the man turned to kick him in the stomach.

'Filthy sinner,' he growled. One of the religious group members moved to rip Sherlock's coat from him. They got a knife and slashed Sherlock's stomach open, pulling at the muscles below the wound in desperation. Sherlock screamed and he watched helplessly as both of his babies were dragged from their home and brutally murdered.

'No! Sherlock!' John cried. 'Mycroft! Mycroft help us!' He sobbed brokenly as the twins lay lifeless on the pavement. Sherlock was aware of a bright orange flash and his brother's panicked yells, the religious group scattering. He glanced up at his brother, a choked sob escaping his throat. John crawled over to Sherlock and smoothed a lock of bloodied hair off his forehead. He didn't dare look at the twins. It was far too gruesome. Mycroft clasped both their hands and transported them to the sitting room of the manor house. Greg came in when he saw the flash of light, wiping his hands on a towel.

'Great. Perfect timing. Dinner's just about–' He froze when he saw Sherlock laying on the floor, his stomach cut open and blood oozing out everywhere.

'Mycroft,' John choked out, tears falling off his chin onto Sherlock's face. 'Do something. Heal him! I know you can! You've brought me back from the dead, now save your brother!'

'It's far more complicated to save an angel!' Mycroft sobbed out, pulling his baby brother's body onto his lap. 'Go get David. He deserves to say goodbye to his father.'

'Don't just give up!' John sobbed. 'Try! Please! I can't lose him!'

'There's nothing I can do for him!' Mycroft kissed his baby brother's head and cried loudly into his dark curls. 'Just get your son!'

'I can't leave him! Greg! Go get David! Now!' Greg nodded and dashed off, grabbing the boy and Rupert as well.

'Uncle Greg? What's going on?' David asked in concern.

'It's your dad. You need to go say... goodbye... to him,' Greg choked out.

'Goodbye?' David swallowed down around the lump that had just formed in his throat. When they made it to the sitting room he saw why. He gasped out a small 'no' and ran to his daddy, hugging his neck tightly, sobbing against him.

'It's ok, son,' Sherlock gasped out. It was getting harder to breathe now. 'It'll all be over soon.'

'No, Daddy!' David cried. 'No! You can't leave me!

'I'm sorry,' Sherlock whispered. 'I'm so sorry.'

'Just try to hang on, Sherlock,' John choked out, his voice small and weak. 'Please. I can't lose you. If you die on me I'm gonna kill you.'

'They killed my babies, John,' Sherlock mumbled weakly. 'I failed those two beautiful lives.'

'I know, love. I know,' John choked out softly. 'But we have more children of our own to have. Isn't that worth living for?'

Sherlock nodded shakily. 'Of course it is but–' he glanced at his stomach. '–I'm fairly sure I'm a goner. Remember me. Just try to remember me, ok?'

'Of course I'll remember you,' John said softly, squeezing Sherlock's hand tight. 'I could never forget you. You're etched onto my heart for all time.'

'You won't remember me,' Sherlock whispered sadly. 'I'll be erased from your mind as soon as I die.'

'What? No! No, I won't allow it!'

'You won't have a choice,' Sherlock croaked out. 'I'm sorry.' He tilted his head to look at his brother. 'Look after our little boy, Croft.'

'Of course, little brother. Of course I will. He's family,' Mycroft whispered his promise gently.

'But I don't want to forget you!' John sobbed brokenly. 'I love you!'

'Love... you... too,' Sherlock managed to gasp out, his eyes closing and his body going limp in his brother's arms.

'He has moments left. Say what you want to say to him now,' Mycroft whispered, his voice broken. 'You too, Gregory. I know that he's like a son to you.'

'Daddy,' David choked out. 'I... I love you so very much. Thanks for teaching me how to fly and not be scared. You're the best Daddy ever.' He pressed a kiss to Sherlock's cheek and stood up, moving away to let John have a turn.

'Sherlock, I... I love you. I love you so much and I will never love anyone again after this. I don't want to forget you. I don't want to move on. I just want you. Always.'

'Goodbye,' Sherlock rasped as his soul was dragged into death. Greg just stared down at Sherlock's body in shock.

Mycroft sobbed softly. 'He's gone. He's gone. I'm so sorry!'

'Daddy! No!' David sobbed, clutching onto John tightly. John stared at Sherlock's lifeless body, taking it all in. He could still remember Sherlock. How could he still remember? Wasn't he supposed to forget?

Mycroft glanced up at John sadly. 'You have twenty four hours till your memory is wiped of him. Use those hours wisely. Spend some time with your son.'

John nodded and went to grab David. Before he did he kissed Sherlock's dead lips softly, a few tears falling onto his face. He pulled back and closed Sherlock's eyes, pressing more kisses to his eyelids.

'I love you, Sherlock. Even when I forget I will always love you. Promise.'

'Daddy,' David whimpered. 'Are you gonna forget me too? I don't want you to forget me.'

'I don't know, baby,' John whimpered softly. He pulled his son into his arm and cradled him against his chest. 'I don't know. I don't want to forget.'

'Please don't forget me Daddy!' David wailed. 'You're my only daddy now!'

'I know baby. I know,' John sobbed brokenly. 'But if I do forget, you'll have Uncles Myc and Greg to care for you. And you can teach Rupert to fly when he gets bigger. So if I forget about you, can you promise that you'll be a good boy for them? Please?'

'I'll be a good boy,' David promised, his voice small.

'That's my boy,' John said softly. 'So how about you and I spend some time together before I have to go home?'

'Wanna watch some  _Doctor Who_?' David asked his daddy softly.

'Sure,' John grinned. 'And then I wanna watch you fly.'

David's bottom lip quivered and he looked back at his other daddy's body. He nodded slowly. 'Ok. I'll fly for you.'

'Ok. Let's go watch the Doctor fight the Cybermen with Craig.' He picked David up and looked down at Sherlock, his breath catching in his throat.

'Make him comfortable,' he told Mycroft. 'Should we bury him?'

'He'll be cremated,' Mycroft whispered softly. 'It's illegal to bury angels.'

'It's also illegal to have a child with an angel,' John said softly. 'What's one more broken law?'

'Angels are powerful, even after death. He must be cremated. If we bury him people may violate his body in an attempt to gain his power.'

'Gain his power? You mean like the healing? Or is there more you guys can do that I don't know about?'

'Oh, there's much more that my baby brother was capable off.' A tear drop flickered down Mycroft's cheek. 'He was going to go into further training in a hundred years time. Now he never will.'

'A hundred years...' John trailed off before he depressed himself further. 'Let me know when you're going to cremate him. I want to be there for that.'

'I will.' Mycroft looked up at John sadly. 'And John? For all it's worth, you were good for him. I've never seen him so happy. And this isn't your fault. It's those damn religious people.'

'Will you do something about that?' John asked. 'Find them and make them pay for what they did. Angel or not, yet killed someone. And that's a prison or death sentence.'

'Yes. I'll kill them myself.' Mycroft's jaw locked in determination. 'They killed three innocent lives, not only that, they killed my only brother and my nephews. They'll pay for this.'

'Good.' John swallowed and took a deep breath. 'I'm sorry you had to hear that, David.'

'It's ok,' the boy said quietly, shrugging. 'Can we just go watch  _Doctor Who_  now?'

'Yeah. Ok.' John adjusted his hold on his son and carried him out to the sitting room. He sat down on the sofa, David in his lap, and turned on the TV, the DVD paused right where they'd left it. He pressed play and the Doctor and Craig burst into life.

Mycroft stared brokenly at his baby brother's corpse before glancing up at his husband. 'Gregory,' he croaked out. 'Help me carry his body out to the garden.'

Greg nodded and took Rupert out to join John and David. He returned and looked down at Sherlock's lifeless form, a sob escaping his lips.

'I didn't even get to say goodbye,' he whispered brokenly.

'I think he knew how you felt about him,' Mycroft sniffled and stroked a hand through Sherlock's thick curls.

'Can I... Can I have a moment alone with him?' Greg asked softly, kneeling down by Sherlock's head.

Mycroft kissed his baby brother's head and nodded, standing to his feet. 'One condition. You give me a hug first.'

'Of course.' Greg stood and walked around Sherlock and wrapped his arms around Mycroft in a tight hug.

'He was so young,' Mycroft whispered brokenly, hugging his husband close.

'I know. Just give me a moment with him. Then we can move him.'

'Ok.' Mycroft kissed his husband softly and sniffled. 'I'll be outside thinking.' He transported himself to the quietest part of the garden, breaking down as soon as he got there.

Greg swallowed and looked down at Sherlock. He draped a spare blanket over his body, leaving his head exposed. He sat down by his head and pulled it into his lap, smoothing a hand through his hair.

'I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to say goodbye,' he whispered. 'But my goodbye would have been too long and you probably wouldn't have been able to stay alive long enough to hear it all. So... I'm gonna say it now.' He swallowed and cleared his throat before continuing. 'You really were like a son to me. And I know that's ridiculous because you're so much older than me, but your physical appearance makes you younger, so you're... I feel responsible for you and I don't know why. I love you like a son, and you were great with your own son. I can only hope you'd be the same with mine. But I guess we'll never know now. I... I'm gonna miss you. So much. Every single day for the rest of my life. You and Mycroft brought so much excitement and sunshine into my life, and I will be forever grateful for that. I love you so much, Sherlock. And you will be greatly missed.' He pressed a soft kiss to the top of Sherlock's head and sobbed quietly over him, his tears landing on Sherlock's cheeks.

'Ok, My. I'm ready,' he called out brokenly.

Mycroft transported himself back, his face ashen. 'Do you want a hug?' he asked his husband softly.

'Yeah,' Greg said in a broken voice. Mycroft shuffled over to his husband, kneeling down beside him. He pulled him into a hug and sobbed into his husband's shoulder. Greg clutched to Mycroft tightly and sobbed like a blubbering baby into his chest.

'I failed him!' Mycroft wailed. 'I should have protected him, and his babies!'

 _Don't blame yourself,_  Greg thought gently, unable to form real words.  _This wasn't your fault. You weren't the one who killed him. As soon as he's cremated I want you to hunt down the bastards who did this. Make sure it's long and painful as well._

'I intend to,' Mycroft whispered softly. 'But right now we need to tend to him. Come on.'

'Ok. So, what do we do? Move him out back and just... light him up?' Greg swallowed thickly. God that sounded morbid and uncaring.

'It's for the best, you know. We can't bury him but we can give him a small ceremony. And unfortunately that will mean burning him.' Mycroft squeezed Greg's arm gently and smiled weakly.

'Right. He deserves a proper ceremony,' Greg agreed. 'So, shall we move him now?'

'Yes. We'll set things up then we'll get John.' Mycroft swallowed thickly. 'Do you think David should witness this?'

'I'm not sure that would be appropriate for a boy his age,' Greg said softly, standing up and stretching slightly. 'But I think he should, seeing as Sherlock is his father. Otherwise, he and Rupert can stay inside and watch some TV.'

'I will talk to David. It's best to let him decide,' Mycroft sniffled. 'Come on. Let's move him.'

Greg nodded and grabbed Sherlock's legs, Mycroft grabbing his shoulders. They lifted him up, Greg grunting with the effort, Mycroft not so much. They moved him outside and laid him down in the grass. Greg took deep breaths of air as he looked at Sherlock's body. How could that be the young angel he'd known? He looked so different now. How could death change a person so drastically?

'I would say that he's in a better place now,' Mycroft said softly, 'but I don't know what happens to angels after death. Some say they are reborn.'

'So... Sherlock could technically be alive as a new angel?' Greg asked.

'It's just a story but yes. It's possible.' Mycroft glanced over to Greg before pulling him into a hug. 'Have another baby with me.'

'Not yet,' Greg said, hugging Mycroft tight. 'It doesn't feel like the right time. Let's wait until Rupert is at least eight months old. But yes, in time I will have another baby with you.'

'We could... I know this sounds awful.' He glanced back at his brother and swallowed. 'We could clone him. Maybe I could carry the child.'

'Clone Sherlock and rebirth him?' Greg raised a skeptical eyebrow. 'Is that even possible?'

'It may be.' Mycroft shrugged and ran a hand down his stomach. 'Would you support me if I went through with it?'

'Yeah,' Greg said softly, smoothing a hand over Mycroft's belly. 'It'd be a bit weird, but I'd support you. No matter what.'

Mycroft smiled weakly. 'Thank you, Gregory. All we need is some of his ash so I can have his DNA.'

'Ok. So, shall we go in and get the others? They should be here for this.'

Mycroft nodded. 'Ok,' he croaked. 'Let's go fetch them.'

Greg took Mycroft's hand and squeezed it tightly. He lead him inside to the sitting room. John, David, and Rupert were still watching  _Doctor Who_ , though Rupert was fast asleep in John's arms.

'Hey guys,' Greg said softly. 'It's time for the ceremony.'

'Ok,' John said softly, pausing the show and standing up, making sure not to wake Rupert.

'David, are you coming too?' Mycroft asked his nephew gently.

'Yeah,' David said in a quiet voice. 'I... I wanna say goodbye nice and proper.'

'Want me to carry you? You look a little shaky on your legs.'

'Yeah,' David squeaked out, his voice small and shaky. He held his arms out to his uncle, those shaking as well.

Mycroft scooped him up into his arms, clutching him tightly. 'I love you David. I'm going to look after you, ok? I promise.'

'Ok,' David choked out, tears sliding down his cheeks. He clutched Mycroft tight and held down his sobs. He didn't want to cry yet. Not yet. He wanted to be strong for his daddy. He'd cry in private later.

'That's a good boy.' Mycroft patted him on the back slightly and hugged him closer.

'Can we hurry up?' John said impatiently. 'No offence, but I'd like this to be quick. It's painful enough that I won't remember this.'

'I'm sorry,' Mycroft sighed softly. 'Yes. Ok. Let's start.'

John steeled himself for what was about to happen. He held Rupert securely and followed Mycroft outside, Greg taking up the rear. He took a few deep breaths when they stepped outside. He stopped and closed his eyes, telling himself to calm down. With a final breath he opened his eyes and walked over to where Greg and Myc were staring at the ground. When he got past the rose bush he stopped in his tracks, a scream dying in his throat.

Sherlock's body was gone.


	34. Escaping Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I'm going to skip the pleasantries as this is not a happy chapter. And happy author's notes at the beginning of this would seem horribly out of place.
> 
>  
> 
> **Major trigger warnings for rape throughout the chapter. I am so sorry. I'll mark when the rape scenes stop with the word ENDING. So if you want to skip the rape scenes, search for ENDING to skip ahead to the next part. There is also a brief murder scene.**
> 
>  
> 
> Other Warnings for this chapter: malnourishment, Holmes brother feels
> 
> MJCF: Sherlock  
> Me: Jim, Mrs Hudson, Mycroft, David  
> Shared: rape factory angels, various Holmes family members

When Sherlock awoke he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. A fraction of a second later he chose neither, opting for screaming instead. He was laid out in what looked like a hospital bed, his stomach full of fledglings once more. His swollen stomach was cramping intensely and his biology was starting to kick in, the muscles of his stomach opening so he could push them out of himself.

'Help!' he screamed. 'Help me!'

The angel midwives appeared instantly and began helping Sherlock through the birthing process. Both fledglings were born without complications and were taken to the high ranking angel parent. Sherlock's stomach was healed and sealed, but as soon as the midwives disappeared a male angel replaced them and began raping Sherlock before he could protest, slamming into him over and over and glowing a brighter and brighter red as he neared his climax.

'Stop!' Sherlock pleaded, trying to push the higher angel away. 'Stop! I don't want to carry your babies! Oh my god! Shit! Tell me this isn't going to be triplets!'

'It's what I'm known for,' the angel growled down Sherlock's ear, spilling into him harshly, the red light filtering into Sherlock and impregnating him.

'Fuck!' Sherlock screamed, his hands jumping to his stomach. He shuddered and groaned, feeling three sparks of life growing there already. The angel disappeared without a word, leaving Sherlock alone in his private room.

**...::-::...**

Over the next eight months Sherlock slipped in and out of consciousness. Every time he woke his stomach was a little bigger with his triplets. He was getting rather attached to them. They were all boys, no surprise there, and they pressed tender touches to his stomach as he placed his hands there. He could swear this was happening too fast; the pregnancy, the growth of his babies. He sometimes wondered who had brought him back to life. His bets were on Uriel. Either way it didn't matter. He was in the rape factory and there was no way out. He found it unnerving that he was suddenly ok with that fact. All too soon he awoke to stomach cramps again. The midwives rushed to him and delivered the triplets. After they did he felt so empty. It hurt. God it hurt.

'Impregnate me now! Someone! Anyone! Fill me with your gorgeous babies! As many as you like! I can take it!' A rather gruff angel appeared and smirked down at Sherlock.

'Pregnancy cravings already, slut?' he growled as he pulled his massive cock out. 'You feeling empty? You want your stomach filled with my fledglings?'

'Yes! God yes!' Sherlock grinned, his whole body quivering in anticipation. 'Twins! Triplets! Quadruplets! I don't fucking care! Just get your cock to bloody work!'

The angel scowled and smacked Sherlock across the face. 'Learn your place,  _slut_ ,' he spat. 'You don't make the rules around here.  _We do_. Now spread your legs and take my cock like the slut you are.'

Sherlock opened up his legs, his breath hitching. 'I'm sorry, sir. I'm just desperate to carry your children. And your cock looks so delightful.'

'Thank you, Slut,' the angel grinned. He stepped between Sherlock's spread legs and pushed inside the waiting entrance, thrusting without mercy.

'Yes! Faster! Harder! Impregnate me!' Sherlock screamed, rocking back against the other angel's cock. The angel slapped a hand over Sherlock's mouth, slamming into his harder as he began to glow red.

'Hold your tongue, Slut,' he growled. 'Once again, learn your place. You do not tell us how to fuck you. We do it as we please, regardless of whether you enjoy it or not. Now shut up and take my cock, Slut!'

Sherlock grunted and shut his mouth, rocking harder against the angel's cock. He watched as the red light dwindled into his stomach and impregnated him. Twins this time. The angel pulled out and closed Sherlock's legs before disappearing, leaving Sherlock alone to grow the twins.

**...::-::...**

Sherlock didn't know how long it went on for but he couldn't remember a time when he wasn't pregnant. And any time he wasn't he always found himself begging others to change that. He felt empty right now and he was screaming for someone to knock him up. It surprised him to no end when it was Michael climbing on top of him but it only excited him further.

'Come to fill me with your babies Mike?!'

'Use my full name when speaking to me,' Michael ordered, running his hands down Sherlock's stomach.

Sherlock shivered and placed his two skeletal hands over the other angels. 'I apologise, Michael,' he whispered brokenly.

'Have they not been feeding you?' Michael asked softly, tracing his fingers over Sherlock's ribs. 'How do they expect the babies to survive if they don't feed their host? They're all morons. Do you want food?'

Sherlock shook his head. 'Want babies! Lots and lots of babies! Rape me so I can be impregnated with your babies!'

'Look at that,' Michael said as he parted Sherlock's legs. 'We've broken you. Turned you into a cock slut. Well, here you go. I'll give you what you want.' He shoved inside Sherlock roughly and began fucking him hard and fast, his body glowing red slowly, drawing out his pleasure.

'I can't wait to be full of your children, sir! Oh god. Fuck yes! Your children will be so big and strong in my belly! So much better than the other angel babies before them!'

'Yes, they will,' Michael growled. 'Now do watch your tongue in my presence. And do shut up. You're putting me off.'

'Sorry, sir,' Sherlock apologised. 'I'm just eager to be full of fledglings.'

'I said to keep your mouth shut,' Michael growled, placing a hand over Sherlock's mouth. 'Or do we need to cut out your tongue?'

Sherlock whimpered and shook his head, forcing himself not to say anything.

'Good man,' Michael said softly as he removed his hand. 'No more talking, though noises are permitted.' He began pounding into Sherlock fast and hard, the red light growing brighter and brighter. Sherlock moaned loudly in appreciation and squeezed his arse cheeks around Michael's cock. His moans grew in volume as the red light shot into his stomach and Michael released his seed, impregnating him once more. Twins again. But this time it was different. They were both female. It was considered a gift to conceive a female fledgling, and he was carrying two. He whined and patted his stomach, smirking proudly up at Michael.

'That's my good boy,' Michael said softly, running his fingers down Sherlock's cheek affectionately. 'Take good care of them and yourself. Eat to make my daughters grow strong.'

'It's not my fault they barely feed me,' Sherlock rasped, swallowing thickly. 'But I'll try my very best.'

'I'll have them bring you more,' Michael said. 'These are my fledglings we're talking about. They deserve the best.' He disappeared in a flash of light before Sherlock could thank him, leaving him alone once more.

**...::-::...**

**ENDING**

Sherlock was only a couple of months into his current pregnancy when he was awoken by a loud bang. 'What?!' he gasped, automatically covering his stomach with his hands in an attempt to protect it.

Jim Moriarty, an infamous fallen angel activist and a fallen angel himself, was attempting to break into Sherlock's private quarters at the rape factory. He still had enough magic to unlock the door, but he wasn't sure how much he'd have to save them both. He burst in, eyes wide with worry as the alarm sounded and found Sherlock, looking just as panicky as he felt.

'Sherlock, come with me,' he said gently but firmly. 'I'm here to save your life. You know who I am, yes?'

Sherlock stared at the angel with wide eyes. 'Of course. You're Jim Moriarty. But... what are you doing here? Why are you here to save me? To save me from what exactly?'

'Save you from yourself,' Jim stated. 'I already got Castiel out, now it's your turn. Please come with me, Sherlock. This is no life, constantly being pregnant and begging for more. You deserve a human life down on earth, with your human. Remember him? He's down there right now. Waiting for you. Ten years is a long time for a human but a mere blink of an eye to us. Please, Sherlock. Come with me.'

Sherlock swallowed and bit his lip. 'But I feel so empty when I'm not pregnant.'

'The humans have drugs to counteract those affects,' Jim assured him. 'You can have a life again, Sherlock, as a free man. Please. I'm not leaving without you.'

Sherlock nodded slowly. 'Oh. Um... ok,' he stammered, struggling off the bed he'd been laid out on for... ten years? Jesus, it felt like months not years. He grunted as his legs wobbled beneath him. 'I'm no use. I can't run. My legs are too weak.'

'We don't have far to go. I've opened a temporary portal to the human world. Britain, where you used to be guardian to John. Come on! Michael's almost here!'

Sherlock looped an arm around Moriarty, a frightened whimper escaping his lips. 'Just take me away from here before I change my mind.'

Jim rushed them down the halls as quickly as he dared, holding Sherlock securely as they made their escape. The portal was still open when they rounded the final corner and Jim breathed out in relief.

'It should be open to Baker Street,' Jim told Sherlock. 'A nice woman lives in building 221. She's a sympathiser and will care for you. I've told her to expect you. She'll help you find John and raise your babies so they can be born healthy. After that I don't know what will happen. Michael will take them and hopefully leave you alone seeing as your memory is still intact. He wouldn't dare kill you on Earth soil and he can't exactly bring you back after you've escaped. I don't know how it works, but it does. Now please go! I'll be right behind you.'

Sherlock swallowed thickly and pushed himself through the portal. He seemed to fall for miles and miles. It was almost like he was flying again. But eventually that illusion was broken and he fell onto something soft. He groaned and wrapped an arm around his stomach protectively, whimpering as his surroundings came into focus.

'Oh. Hello dear,' a kindly woman said to Sherlock. 'Oh dear, you're all out of sorts. Where's Jim?'

'I can't make it, Mrs Hudson!' Jim shouted through the portal. 'I'm not gonna make it! Take care of Sherlock for me! No! Let me go! No! Stop! Please!' A sickening crack could be heard through the portal as it closed and Mrs Hudson gasped in shock, her hands covering her mouth. She closed her eyes and thanked Jim silently, praying for his soul to be forgiven. When she finished she looked down at Sherlock, crying silently on the bed and cradling his stomach.

'It was bound to happen I'm afraid,' she said softly. 'I'm just glad you and the babies survived. Would you like some food? You look starved.'

Sherlock sobbed out a small, 'Yes.' He curled further in on himself. Jim had given up his life and for what? Giving him an escape from the factory? He closed his eyes, trembling violently where he lay.

Mrs Hudson sighed softly and went downstairs to cook for the angel. While she was sad James had lost his fight, she would continue to be an advocate for fallen angels' rights. James had saved many angels in his time, giving them all new lives and hope. Now it was her job to keep calm and carry on.

Sherlock rolled from his position on the bed, his legs dangling over the edge. He smoothed a hand over his stomach and slowly got up. He sighed as he saw his current naked state and wrapped himself up in a sheet. He somehow managed to stand on his own two feet and he tottered out of the room, his hand still placed on his stomach. Mrs Hudson smiled at Sherlock as he entered her kitchen. She passed him a bowl of spaghetti, leftovers from her supper last night.

'Thank you,' Sherlock mumbled quietly, taking a seat behind the kitchen table and digging into the food greedily.

'You're quite welcome,' Mrs Hudson said softly, turning back to the stove as she prepared a casserole dish. 'Jimmy said you've been in there for quite some time. Does it feel good to be out?'

Sherlock shrugged. 'He told me that it was ten years. It felt like months. And I didn't care at all. As long as I was being constantly impregnated I was happy. Now I don't know what to feel.'

'Well, we can get you drugs to help with the empty feeling and the pregnancy cravings. I think once you begin to feel normal you'll be a little more optimistic.'

'I'm not sure how optimistic I can get whilst being on the run whilst impregnated with Michael's fledglings.'

'Michael's?' Mrs Hudson queried. 'Oh dear. Well, they won't come after you until the babies are born. You're on Earth's soil now. They can't touch you here. Not since you've fallen anyway. As soon as you fell and landed here, you became one of Earth's occupants. The angels see you as human now, just with angel DNA. So when the babies are born they'll take them but not you.'

Sherlock's face fell further and he frowned. 'I don't want them to take my babies,' he growled. 'I need to get in contact with my brother. May I use your phone to call him?'

'Your brother still believes you dead,' Mrs Hudson informed him. 'Yes, I know about that. Jimmy briefed me. I'm not sure a phone call would be the best choice.'

'It's safer than getting a taxi to his house,' Sherlock pointed out with a long sigh. 'Please?'

'Alright,' Mrs Hudson sighed. 'Phone's through there.' She pointed down the hall. 'I'll make some more food for you whilst you're on the phone with him.'

'Thank you.' Sherlock smiled softly and got to his feet, moving to the phone slowly, still a little unsteady on his feet. He took a deep breath and dialled his brother's number.

Mycroft looked up from his papers when his mobile rang. No one ever called that number unless it was an emergency. He picked it up and answered briskly, 'Mycroft Holmes.'

Sherlock swallowed thickly. 'Hey, My,' he whispered softly. 'It's been a while.'

Mycroft froze and sat up straight, gripping his phone tight. 'Who is this?' he grit out. 'How did you get this number?'

'It's me, My. It's your brother,' Sherlock sniffled. 'Missed me?'

'My brother is dead,' Mycroft growled. 'He died ten years ago and then his body was stolen. So you can kindly fuck off you sick bastard!'

'Yeah, maybe your brother is dead!' Sherlock snapped as he felt something break within him. 'Fuck it! Just fuck it!' He slammed the phone down and sobbed brokenly.

Mycroft growled and traced the location of the call. The bumbling idiot hadn't even tried rerouting the call! As soon as he had the location he transported himself to 221 Baker Street, seething and itching for a fight.

'Who dared to call and make a mockery of my brother?!' he roared.

Sherlock locked his jaw in place, his nostrils flaring in agitation as he continued to sob, his cries now silent. He wrapped his arms around his stomach and slid down onto the floor, trying to block out his brother's angry screams.

'Calm down, sir,' Mrs Hudson said softly. 'Please. My tenants don't need to hear your shouting at this hour.'

'Were you the one who called me?' Mycroft grit out.

'No, sir,' Mrs Hudson said softly. 'Come with me. I'll take you to him.' She set her dishrag down and lead Mycroft out to the hallway. As soon as Mycroft saw his little brother sobbing on the floor he fell to his knees in disbelief.

'Sherlock?' he croaked out, his voice thick with emotion. 'Is it really you?'

Sherlock nodded, sobbing louder, his bony hands covering his eyes. 'It's me, My! It's really me! Please don't shout! I don't like it when you shout!'

'But... you were dead,' Mycroft whispered softly. 'I watched you die. How are you alive?'

'I don't know!' Sherlock wailed, his whole body trembling violently.

'Shhh. Shhh. It's ok, Locky,' Mycroft said softly, shuffling over and pulling Sherlock into his lap. 'God. I'm so sorry for yelling. I thought you were another prank caller. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But it's good to see you alive.' He hugged Sherlock close, sobbing quietly into his brother's shoulder.

Sherlock almost screamed as his brother wrapped his arms around him. 'Get off of of me! Get off of me now!' he cried, pushing away from Mycroft so that he could wrap his arms around his stomach.

'Sherlock, what's wrong?' Mycroft asked, deeply hurt. He glanced down at Sherlock's hands and frowned. 'Whose are they?'

'M-ichael's,' Sherlock hicupped softly, a small whimper escaping his lips.

'Oh.' Mycroft's face fell. 'How on earth did you escape with Michael's fledglings?'

'Jim Moriarty gave his life so that we could escape. Michael's looking for us, My. He wants to take my babies from me! I'm sick of people taking or killing my babies!'

'I know, Lock. I know,' Mycroft sighed softly. 'But I'm afraid you're going to have to give them to Michael once they're born. You have no legal hold over them seeing as you're a fallen angel. I'm afraid that's one rule I just cannot change.'

'Fuck the rules!' Sherlock snapped and scrambled to his feet faster than his brother could blink. He smirked dangerously as he ran from the building and shot down a maze of back allyways, his legs suddenly strong beneath him as adrenaline pumped through his veins. Mycroft growled and transported himself to Sherlock's location, grabbing him and forcing him to stop running.

'Sherlock this is madness!' he yelled at him. 'Stop running! You can't outrun Michael! He'll find you as soon as you begin giving birth! I'll do my best to help you, but I'm not sure I'll be able to do much. Please come back with me. Let me look after you. Please.'

'No!' Sherlock screamed. 'No! Just fuck off! I don't need your help and I definitely don't need you!' Sherlock struggled to get away from his brother, sobbing and screaming at the top of his lungs.

'Sherlock please!' Mycroft begged. 'I've thought you dead for ten years! Please just let me help you. You can meet your niece!'

'Niece?' Sherlock blinked and stopped struggling. 'Have you been busy whilst I've been away?'

'Yes, in a manner of speaking.' Mycroft flushed crimson. 'Gregory and I have three children now with a fourth on the way. Two sons and a daughter. The new one is going to be a boy again. Just... Please come home, Sherlock, and meet your family. And you can see David again!'

Sherlock sighed in resignation and was just about to reply when there was a giant flash of light. He squealed and ran from his brother, hiding around the corner and watching as a mean looking angel pinned Mycroft up against the wall. Sherlock closed his eyes for what happened next. It didn't take a genius to realise his brother was being raped.

'Get your hands off me you filthy ape!' Mycroft screamed. 'Do you know who I am?! I'm Mycroft bloody Holmes! I am your superior! And you will release me at once!'

'You are nothing to me!' the angel screamed back, begining to glow a bright red. 'Nothing but a host to my triplets.' He thrust harshly into Mycroft before spilling into him, the light pouring into his stomach.

'Fuck your triplets!' Mycroft roared, kicking the angel in his stomach hard enough to shove him off. The red light dissipated but enough damage had been done to impregnate him. Well he could easily fix that. He transported himself over to Sherlock, grasped his shoulder tight, and took them home. As soon as they arrived in the foyer he called his personal physician, ordering an abortion pronto. He glanced over to Sherlock who looked really shaken up.

'Do you want a cup of tea?' he asked gently. 'And someone should let that woman know you won't be coming back. Shame really. Her casserole smelled divine.'

Sherlock's nostrils flared and he looked at his brother with tear filled eyes. 'You're making a huge mistake, My. You think I had the same choice when my twins were ripped from my stomach and murdered? The guilt of not protecting something that is part of you... it'll eat you alive. Belive me when I say you'll be wanting to be dead within a month.' He sighed heavily and nodded. 'A cup of tea sounds nice.'

'This isn't my first abortion, Sherlock,' Mycroft informed him sadly. 'And these ones wouldn't survive anyway. I didn't absorb all the light. They'd be stillborns, or die in the womb. I'm doing us all a favour. Now come on. Up ya get. Let's get some food in you and I'll make the tea.'

A tear drop fell from Sherlock's eye and he nodded. 'Give me a minute,' he whispered softly. 'Today's been rather hectic.'

'Ok. Sure. Do you want me to keep everyone at bay whilst you calm down?'

Sherlock nodded again, his hands running wildly through his thick curls. 'Yeah, I don't know how ready I am to see anyone just yet. I might take a shower too. I probably smell like the back end of a sewer right about now.'

'Yeah. Here. I'll help you to the shower and find you some clothes, ok? Then I can have the cooks make you a feast.'

Sherlock licked his lips and hummed. 'Food would be great, thank you.'

'Ok. Let's stand up then.' Mycroft helped Sherlock to his feet and wrapped an arm around him to steady him. Thankfully Gregory and the kids were out in the secluded field out back. Rupert and Sher would be teaching Sky how to fly, and Gregory would be napping in the sun with baby Rory fussing about in the womb. Only a few months to go now.

Mycroft shook his head of his thoughts and helped Sherlock into the guest room and the en suite bathroom.

'You can stay here for as long as you want,' he told Sherlock. 'I'll go make the tea and have the cooks start a feast. I'll join you after my procedure.'

Sherlock swallowed thickly. 'Will you be ok?' he asked softly. 'I can imagine it's not a nice procedure.' His face fell slightly. 'I'm sorry I didn't stop that angel. I was just so terrified of something happening to my fledglings.'

'It's a simple enough procedure,' Mycroft said softly. 'And it's fine. Angels like that hunt down guardians like me all the time. They've renounced their vows to Heaven or their human has died and they're taking it out on whomever they can find. And that means rape and impregnation.'

'I think I recognised him.' Sherlock bit down on his lip nervously. 'Yes, I do. He impregnated me with triplets at least twice. He's well known for it apparently.'

'Perhaps he's got a vendetta against the Holmes line?' Mycroft shook his head. 'It doesn't matter right now. Just clean yourself up and then go eat. I'll be back before you know it, albeit probably a bit groggy.'

'Good luck,' Sherlock mumbled quietly before turning to the shower and stripping off the sheet still wrapped around him. It'd be good to wash the years worth of dirt and grime off of his body. Mycroft nodded and transported himself to the kitchen, instructing the cooks to prepare a hearty feast for the pregnant angel now residing with them. They set about to work without question. Mycroft himself made Sherlock some tea, sitting it on the bedside table in Sherlock's room. He then went to his own bedroom, his doctor waiting for him. He stripped from his clothes and laid down on his bed. The doctor filtered sleep into the air and Mycroft went under in seconds, not waking through any part of the procedure. Not even when the doctor healed his incisions and pulled a pair of pyjama trousers on him.

The hot water felt heavenly to Sherlock. His aching muscles relaxed under the spray and the dirt and other disgusting substances that he was covered in washed away down the drain. He cradled his stomach protectively and began to hum a soft tune to his children, hoping that somehow he'd be able to save them from Michael.

David, bored with watching his cousins fly, walked back to the mansion and went to the kitchen. He grabbed an apple and ate it whilst he ventured through the halls. While he knew the mansion back to front, he still enjoyed exploring the long halls and secret passages. But when he passed the guest room and heard the shower running he froze. Who the hell was that? He should have been the only one in the house. He turned and went upstairs to check to see if Uncle Myc was home. He was, and he was asleep. Then who was in the guest shower? He binned the apple core and went back downstairs to investigate. He entered the guest room silently, taking note of the cup of tea on the nightstand. Still warm and steaming. He went over to the bathroom door and knocked gingerly, not really wanting to frighten the intruder but not brave enough to confront him directly.

'Is that you, My?!' Sherlock called out from the shower. 'I'll be out in a minute. You don't think I'd miss a chance at having a feast after ten bloody years of nothing, do you?'

David froze. That voice sounded so familiar. A voice almost forgotten. But how? He stumbled and sat down on the floor, wrapping his wings around himself protectively. How? How was his father still alive? He'd seen him  _die_  for Christ's sake! That had killed him inside. And when John ha forgotten and left him behind, what semblance of a heart he'd had left had been wrenched from him and stomped into the dirt. How was his father alive? Did that mean John would come back? What the hell was he supposed to do now?

'My?' Sherlock frowned and poked his head out of the shower. He blinked at the sight of the young angel shaking on the floor. He didn't recognise him at first but then it hit him.

'David?' he gasped, his legs suddenly shaking beneath him. 'Oh.' His breath hitched further in his chest, his mind going into overload. He couldn't believe the angel he was looking at now was his son. He keeled over, his breathing erratic and his eyes doing back flips in his skull as the shock sunk in. Before he knew what was happening he was falling. There was a loud thud and everything went black.

David started shaking, staring at his father's body on the floor. No. Not again. God no. He screamed bloody murder and ran from the house, taking off into flight as soon as he steppe outside. He flew for miles before he found a secluded spot and landed. He pulled his ounce of crystal meth out of his pocket and crushed a few crystals in his palm, snorting them right out of his hand. He took deep, calming breaths as soon as the drug entered his system, his body hyper alert.

Mycroft, hearing the scream in his sleep, woke in a panic. He was still groggy but he made it downstairs without much trouble. He gasped when he saw Sherlock on the bathroom floor. He hauled him up and put him on the bed. He checked on the babies, both ok though a little shaken up. But something felt different. Something was definitely off about the twins. Mycroft gasped when he finally figured it out. Girls. They were both girls. There was no way Michael would allow his rare daughters to live on Earth. There was nothing he could do for his brother now.

**...::-::...**

Sherlock awoke later that night with a soft groan, his hands immediately sliding to his stomach. 'I'm sorry, little ones. Your daddy just gained quite a shock.'

Mycroft looked up from his book and smiled at Sherlock softly.

'You weren't the only one given a fright,' he said quietly. 'Scared me half to death. What happened?'

'I saw David,' Sherlock whispered brokenly. 'He's just, um... changed a lot. Shook me up a little to be honest.'

'Oh. Right. I forgot to warn you about him.' Mycroft swallowed. 'He took your death really hard. And when your body was stolen... it broke him. He hasn't been the same since. And I fear his behaviours have turned far worse.'

Sherlock swallowed thickly. He dreaded to think about what Mycroft was implying. 'I could check on him, if you like. I'm his father after all. I can probably still locate him.'

'No.' Mycroft shook his head. 'Leave the poor boy alone. He needs time to cope with you suddenly being alive... and pregnant.'

'He wouldn't know,' Sherlock sighed. 'But ok. You're right, I suppose.'

'Wouldn't know what? That you're pregnant? Sherlock, I'm sorry to say, but pregnant with angel twins? You're showing, and it's very obvious.'

Sherlock blushed a deep red. 'Actually I meant that he wouldn't know that I was spying on him.' His hands massaged his stomach gently. 'How am I so fat? I'm barely a couple of months in.'

'Oh.' Mycroft flushed a slight pink. 'Sorry. And I didn't mean to imply you were fat. I just meant that you're showing, carrying fast growing twins and all.'

'It doesn't help that they sped each pregnancy along,' Sherlock hummed. 'I only ever had to carry for eight months. I must have been pregnant at least thirteen times.'

'Jesus,' Mycroft breathed out in disbelief. 'That's horrible.'

'It's not like I didn't want it, My. I rather enjoy carrying children. The raping process isn't too bad either. Some of the angels were incredibly kind. Michael especially so. I think it's because of our past. I mean, I did almost bond with him in my teen years. He has a soft spot for me.' Sherlock glanced over to his brother and flushed. 'Ah. Didn't you know that?'

'No, though I had a feeling he favoured you.' Mycroft sighed and looked at Sherlock's stomach. 'You're carrying girls this time. Michael's daughters.'

'Yes, I know,' Sherlock sighed heavily. 'Maybe I should have bonded with Michael whilst I had the chance, became his mate. It would have saved me a lot of trouble.'

'Probably, but then you wouldn't have David,' Mycroft pointed out. 'He's a good kid, and he has enough sense to remain sober around my younger fledglings. Sky especially. She adores David.'

'Can't wait to meet everyone officially.' He bit his lip in thought. 'Michael made me more than one proposition, you know. He still mentions it sometimes.'

'To be his mate?' Mycroft asked gently.

Sherlock nodded. 'Told me that I was his favourite. Told me that he loved me.'

'Michael has a lot of favourites,' Mycroft told him softly. 'He just wants the best genetics for his fledglings. And you wouldn't be his only mate. There are rumours that he has his own private breeders.'

Sherlock shook his head. 'I broke his heart, My. You should have seen him all those years ago. He was devastated.'

'How do you mean?' Mycroft raised a curious eyebrow. 'You mean to say that you declined Michael's proposal of becoming his mate? When was this?'

'It doesn't matter, My. I was young. I wasn't even mature enough to mate with. Michael and I used to hang out. We got drunk. Things happened...'

'What sort of things?' Mycroft queried softly.

'Let's just say I was far more experienced with the sexual side of things when I began with John than I let on.' Sherlock swallowed, blushing crimson.

Mycroft nodded and blushed. 'Speaking of John, I've been keeping an eye on him since your death. You'll be happy to know he's a licensed physician now. And he grew out of his scrawny baby fat. He's... handsome, and no longer boyish.'

'He was always handsome, My,' Sherlock smirked. 'To me he was anyway.'

'You know what I meant,' Mycroft sighed. 'I can take you to see him, but you can't make contact with him. He doesn't remember you at all.'

'I don't want to see him, My. I got over being in a relationship with him long ago,' Sherlock sighed softly. 'Being in that factory makes you think about stuff.'

'I imagine it would,' Mycroft sighed sadly. 'Well, let's get you in some clothes then and we can go eat and meet the family. They'll be so shocked to see you.'

'Here's hoping I don't end up having a panic attack again,' Sherlock smiled weakly.

'I think you'll be fine,' Mycroft assured him gently. 'It's Gregory I'm worried about. A shock to him this early in the pregnancy could harm our baby.'

'Break it to him gently before he actually meets me. I'd hate to harm your unborn child.'

'I will. After I find you clothes. Will a pair of my pyjamas work for now?'

'My stomach may be round but the rest of me is practically anorexic. I doubt they'd fit.' Sherlock sighed heavily.

'I'll fetch them for you anyway. Better to wear something too big than too small.' He pressed a kiss to Sherlock's hair and went upstairs to fetch a pair of pyjamas he wouldn't miss.

Sherlock sighed and rolled over onto his side. He wondered whether he should be concerned by what Mycroft had said about David. No. He knew that he should indeed be concerned about David. He was, after all, his son. One little trip into his mind surely wouldn't hurt, would it? Sherlock closed his eyes and began to try to rekindle his connection with David. He soon realised that was a huge mistake as his head suddenly became fuzzy and both he and the twins began to get agitated.

Mycroft returned with the pyjamas, dodging Gregory and the children as they returned. He frowned when he saw Sherlock's stiff form curled up on the bed. He went over to him and squeezed his shoulder gently.

'Lock. Lock, what's wrong?' he whispered.

Sherlock whimpered and sobbed softly. 'D-Da-David.'

'What about him?' Mycroft asked worriedly. 'Is he ok?'

'No. He's not ok,' Sherlock choked out. 'He's high and he's panicking.'

'Do you want me to go get him?'

Sherlock nodded and clutched his stomach. 'The girls are becoming really distressed.'

'Ok. Where is he? And break the connection soon before something happens to the girls.'

'I can't, My. Head's too fuzzy. He's... near Saint Bart's.' Sherlock swallowed thickly. 'Help me break the connection, My. Please?'

Mycroft nodded and took Sherlock's head in his hands, holding him securely and pressing their foreheads together. He was able to find a more accurate location of David's whereabouts and gently severed the mental link, Sherlock relaxing in his arms.

'Get dressed and drink your tea,' he said softly. 'I'll be back soon.'

Sherlock nodded weakly and crawled over to his cup of tea, taking it with shaking hands and sipping at it slowly. The restless twins soon settled and Sherlock sighed, his eyes fluttering shut.

'Just find my boy and bring him back to me in one piece.'

Mycroft nodded and transported himself to Saint Bartholomew's Hospital, searching for David among the back alleys. He found him huddled up in his wings, shaking and twitching like a madman, his eyes flitting to and fro in paranoia. Mycroft sighed and moved forward, coming into David's line of sight. The boy just stared at him, twitching like mad. Once Mycroft knelt down in front of him David managed a small smile.

'H-hey Uncle,' he said shakily. 'C-come t-to save me?'

'Yes. Now hold still. I'm going to help you come down from your high.'

'N-n-no!' David protested, wrenching away from his uncle'a hands. 'I dun wanna!'

Mycroft scowled and held David's head securely in his hands. He began filtering the drug out of his system, David's harsh movements calming. Once he went limp in his hands, Mycroft transported them back to his bedroom, putting the boy in bed to sleep. He went downstairs and found Gregory and the kids in the sitting room, enjoying some post-flight snacks.

'Ah. Hello everyone.' He smiled over at Gregory and stepped into the sitting room. 'Since you're all here, I've got a bit on an announcement to make.'

Sherlock managed to scramble into the pyjamas that he'd borrowed from his brother. They fit snugly around his stomach but otherwise hung loosely on him. He looked completely ridiculous. The beard and his overgrown mop only added to poor appearance. He sighed and padded slowly to the sitting room, peering into it curiously.

Greg gasped softly at the sight of the man peering around the corner. He looked utterly unkempt and filthy. Where had Mycroft picked this one up?

'Mycroft, what have I told you about picking up strays?' Greg sighed. 'You can't help every fallen angel you find.'

'But this is no ordinary fallen angel,' Mycroft said softly. He waved Sherlock over, holding his hand out to him.

Sherlock grabbed his brother's hand and clasped it tightly, entering the room with a shy smile. 'Hello, Greg.'

'How do you know my name?' Greg asked, looking the man up and down. He seemed oddly familiar.

Sherlock frowned, deeply hurt. 'I've been gone for ten years and you've already forgotten me?'

'I forget no one,' Greg growled. Sky whimpered and his behind her daddy's chair. 'Now who are you? We've obviously met but I don't recognise you.'

Sherlock scowled. 'I realise I have a beard... and I'm alive... but surely I haven't changed that much. Erhh. Humans. You're so bloody infuriating.'

'Of course you're alive,' Greg huffed. 'You're standing right there!'

'Gregory,' Mycroft said softly. 'This is Sherlock.'

'Ha! Don't make me laugh,' Greg scowled. 'Sherlock died, Myc. We saw him die. You're having delusions again.'

'No I'm not! This is Sherlock! Jim Moriarty himself saved him from the factory! Prove it, Sherlock! Prove you're real!'

'Stop yelling! Both of you!' Sherlock huffed, his nostrils flaring. 'The twins don't need the stress. I'm getting some food.' He yanked his hand away from his brother's and stormed out to the kitchen.

'Sherlock!' Mycroft called after him.

'Kids, go to your rooms,' Greg said. 'Papa and I need to talk.' The three fledglings all nodded, heading upstairs without complaint. Greg stood and rubbed a hand over his growing belly, the newest fledgling moving about in agitation. Greg squeezed Mycroft's hand gently, his husband turning to look at him with tears in his eyes.

'It's him, Gregory,' he whispered brokenly. 'It's him. Jim saved him from the factory. You have to believe me.'

'I find it hard to believe,' Greg said quietly. 'We saw him did ten years ago. Yes, his body was stolen, but it was also never found.'

'That's because the angels took him and brought him back to life,' Mycroft choked out. 'Gregory, please. Just... Let's give him a shave and a haircut and then you'll see. Even David recognised him.'

'David recognised him? After all that time?'

'Yes. And he ran off and got high. He's home now, asleep.'

Greg sighed and nodded. 'Ok. Let's clean him up a bit and then I'll see for myself if he's real.'

'Thank you,' Mycroft breathed out in relief. He kissed his Gregory soundly, rubbing his growing belly gently. The baby pressed up against his hand in recognition. He pulled away and lead Gregory to the kitchen where Sherlock was currently stuffing his face with the gorgeous feast his cooks had prepared.

Sherlock ignored the two presences in the room. He'd deal with them later. His babies were kicking inside of his womb, making him hungry and desperate to stuff as much food into himself as possible. It would seem Michael's fledglings were the most demanding fledglings he'd had to carry to date. They were typical women too. They had to get what they wanted. And what they wanted was for him to eat everything in sight.

'Sherlock?' Mycroft said gently. 'You don't have to stop eating, but I want to ask something of you. Grunt or something to let me know your answer.' He paused before looking over at Gregory. He nodded. 'We'd like to clean you up a bit after you've finished eating. Cut your hair, give you a shave, things like that. Does that sound ok?'

Sherlock grunted loudly, a large mouthful of food slipping down his throat without him so much as chewing it.

'Is that a yes?' Mycroft asked gently.

Sherlock swallowed and slammed his fist down on the table. 'God dammit, Mycroft! Do you think I like looking like this?! Of course it was a yes. Now leave me alone before you upset my baby girls further.'

Greg yelped and clutched at his own stomach, his baby kicking up a terrible fuss. He groaned and doubled over, breathing rapidly as the baby kicked out harshly.

'Gregory!' Mycroft exclaimed, wrapping a secure arm around his husband. 'Is it the baby? What's wrong? I don't want to lose another one!'

'He's agitated,' Greg choked out. 'Worried because I'm worried. Help me up to bed.' Mycroft nodded and picked Gregory up tenderly, carrying him up to their bedroom.

Sherlock swallowed guiltily. He suddenly wasn't hungry anymore. He hadn't meant to upset Greg or his unborn nephew. He sighed and stood to his feet, walking aimlessly around the mansion.

Mycroft hummed Gregory and the baby to sleep, pressing a soft kiss to Gregory's stomach. He went back downstairs and frowned when he saw the kitchen empty.

'Sherlock?' he called out softly. 'Sherlock, please come talk to me. Gregory's fine. The baby's fine. They're both fine.'

'What did you mean by losing another baby?' Sherlock asked softly from behind his brother. 'Was Greg pregnant when I died? Did I cause him to miscarry?'

'No, he wasn't pregnant when you died,' Mycroft said softly, turning around to face Sherlock. 'We had a bit of a bad spot when Gregory went out to go shopping and got in a car accident. He survived but the baby didn't. And this is the first time we've even attempted to try having another baby since then. It killed Gregory inside. He didn't leave our room for weeks. But we're slowly moving on, and I think having another baby will help Gregory. He was so scared to try again. He didn't want to for years. And now here we are, and we're taking every precaution to not lose this one.'

'I'm sorry, My,' Sherlock whispered softly, frowning deeply. 'If it helps at all I know what it feels like to lose a child. The only difference being I heard mine scream as they were ripped from me. I've vowed to protect my other children, to make sure they don't meet the same fate. I'll never forget those two though. Beautiful. They were absolutely beautiful.'

'I never want you to have to go through that again,' Mycroft whispered sadly. 'It was heartbreaking for everyone involved.'

'It will always haunt me.' Sherlock sniffled and shook his head. 'But enough of the past. You said you wanted to shave me. Let's do it.'

'Ok. Come on.' Mycroft lead Sherlock to the guest bathroom and pulled out some shaving cream and a straight razor. He sat Sherlock on the toilet and helped him pull his mangy hair back.

'We'll clip that as well,' he said. 'But you need a shave first.'

'Mmm. Fine. Just make it quick. I'm bloody exhausted.' Sherlock sighed tiredly and closed his eyes.

'Ok. Just try to stay awake.' He grabbed the cream and spread it along Sherlock's cheeks, chin, and neck. He grabbed the razor and opened it, the silver gleaming. 'Ok. Here we go.'

'Hurry up. The twins are draining me by the second. They want me to take a nap. And I'm rather sick of looking like a hobo too.'

Mycroft nodded and began shaving off his brother's beard gently, slowly revealing his little brother underneath all the dirt, grime, and hair.

'How am I looking? Better?' Sherlock asked softly, a finger running over his now smooth face.

'Much better,' Mycroft grinned. 'You look like my little brother again. Alive and clean shaven.'

'Mmm. Good. Can I bloody go to sleep now?' Sherlock grumbled, a small snore leaving his mouth.

Mycroft merely chuckled and washed the remaining shaving foam off his brother's face, trying not to wake him. The hair could wait, though he desperately wanted to trim it. He gently picked Sherlock up and transferred him over to the bed, tucking him in comfortably.

'Sleep now, Sherlock. Get your rest.' He pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. 'I love you.' He left Sherlock in peace and went to spend some time with his children, listening to them tell him about their flying improving. Sky, his beautiful baby girl, was starting to learn how to do loops and rolls. He hugged her tight as she told him how scary but fun it was, just listening to his little girl talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter should hopefully be posted later this week. I'll try and have it up by Friday at the earliest or Saturday sometime. We'll see you then!
> 
> ~TSA + MJCF


	35. Love hurts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Happy Winchester Wednesday. Or Happy Hump Day. Apologies for not updating over the weekend like I said I would. I was too busy packing up all my stuff to move into my first apartment. Things are still a mess here, but it's slowly beginning to get organized enough I can see my floor. Haha.
> 
> MJCF: Sherlock  
> Me: Michael, Mycroft, David, John
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: angst, feelings, smut, sexy times, post-coital bliss, John angst, Johnlock feels, "amnesia", piss (non-sexual), more angst, memory recollection

Sherlock slept uneasily. His twins were doing agitated flips in his stomach and they just wouldn't settle down. At some point he felt strong arms wrapping around him and thick feathers pulling him against a warm and welcoming body. He smiled in his sleep, the twins settling instantly.

'Thank you,' he mumbled softly.

'Shhh,' Michael said softly, running a hand over Sherlock's belly gently. 'Just sleep. You and the girls both need it.'

Sherlock snapped his eyes open and let out a startled scream at the sound of Michael's voice, scrambling away from him as quickly as he could. Michael sat up and looked at Sherlock curiously, slightly hurt.

'Sherlock, whatever is the matter?' he asked softly. 'I'm not here to harm you so please calm down. Sit. And don't alert your brother.'

'You can't be here, Michael. Go. I'm fine just go,' Sherlock choked out around a thick lump slowly building in his throat. 'I've got too much to lose here.'

Sherlock shuddered to think about what Michael would do if he knew he had a part human son, and part human nephews and a niece too.

'I see you shaved,' Michael said, ignoring Sherlock's words. 'Though your hair is still mangled. I apologise for how you were treated at the... facility. I gave them orders to care for you, and they went ignored. Said no one got special treatment. Not even the one I resurrected from the dead.'

Sherlock's nostrils flared and his eyes locked onto Michael's, deep blue and ice cold. 'Why the hell did you resurrect me? Did you ever consider that I'd fallen so far that death might actually be the best option for me? You're unbelievable, ya know that?'

'I didn't want to lose you,' Michael stated. 'You've always been my favourite. And you always will be.'

'I think,' Sherlock took a deep, seething breath, 'you lost me a long time ago, don't you? You had no right to resurrect me. I wish I was dead.'

'I technically haven't lost you yet,' Michael said softly. 'You're still unbonded. You haven't chosen a mate. You can still be mine, if you wish.'

Sherlock blinked in surprise before letting out a large huff of laughter. 'What? So I can be your personal cock slut, all yours and no one else's? So I can play host to many more of your offspring? So you can rape me legally? I don't think so. I hardly compare to the other mates that you probably have anyway.'

'So you've heard the rumours then?' Michael sighed and shook his head. 'I have no one else. I've been around since the creation. I've met Father and served under him for years. And through all that time I haven't chosen anyone. I've only ever wanted you.'

Sherlock shuffled closer to Michael, his belly lightly pressing against him. 'These are your first children, aren't they? You wanted to mate with me when I was younger. But I wasn't ready. I wasn't ready to lose my virginity. I was up for a bit of fun but I wouldn't go all the way with you, so you abandoned me and when I was in a vulnerable position you raped me, treated me like shit, and impregnated me. You finally had your way with me. Congratulations.'

'I never raped you. You consented completely. But yes, these are my first children. And daughters no less. And I never abandoned you.  _You_ left _me_. You weren't ready so you left. And the last time I saw you was when you were given your human to guard. And the fact that you chose a puny, worthless human over me infuriates and disheartens me  _every. single. day_ ,' he growled. 'I grieved over you when you fell. I grieved over you when those horrible people murdered you and your children. I brought you back to life to give you a second chance, to try to make things right, but my authority was undermined and you were sent back to the factory and I am so sorry. I... I have failed you.'

'No,' Sherlock sighed and shook his head. 'You haven't failed me. You were only doing what you thought was in my best interests. And yes, ok, I lost my virginity to a human. Have you ever thought that the idea of you in bed is quite terrifying to me? You're so powerful. If you got carried away you could hurt me. And tell yourself you didn't rape me all you like. That's a lie. You know that, right? You told me that I was broken, that I was a cock slut and then you finally got to shove your cock up my arse. I'm just saying... I don't trust you.'

'I could never hurt you, Sherlock,' Michael said softly. 'And while I said those things to you in the factory, I treated you with respect. I didn't hurt you, I didn't rape you, I merely degraded you with words. But I didn't hurt you. I could never hurt you. I–' He stopped himself before he could say the words. They would only make him more vulnerable, and he'd done enough of that just by telling Sherlock he was his favourite.

'Never mind. It's not important. I'll be back in a month or so to check on the twins' progress. Do take care of them, won't you?'

Sherlock pushed himself closer to Michael, resting his head on the older angel's chest. 'Please don't go. I could really use you around.' He kissed him delicately on the cheek. 'I feel alone and ultimately I feel vulnerable. What if I get killed again? I'd drag down your only spawn with me. I'm scared and I'm seriously considering becoming your mate because I'm so alone.'

Michael tentatively wrapped his arms around Sherlock and held onto him securely. 'I am sorry you feel so alone, and you have no idea how much joy it brings me to hear you say you're considering to become my mate,' he said softly. 'But I can't stay much longer. I have duties in Heaven to tend to. Is there anything I can do for you until the next time I visit? I want you to be able to trust me. So please let me show you I can be trustworthy.'

'Make love with me.' Sherlock swallowed thickly. He could hardly believe his own words. Perhaps it was his hormones or perhaps it really was because he felt so alone, and there was the fact John would never remember him... He just really needed to be loved right now and Michael was right there beside him offering himself to him.

'If that's what you truly want,' Michael said softly, a hand slowly caressing Sherlock's pregnant belly.

Sherlock shivered and gasped sharply. 'Believe me. I want this terribly so.'

'Alright then.' Michael captured Sherlock's lips and kissed him softly, running his hands up and down Sherlock's back before settling on cradling his face gently, the kiss intensifying.

Sherlock's whole body felt like it was on fire, the kiss sending sharp shivers down the full length of his spine. He pushed himself up onto Michael's lap and rocked steadily, small moans of appreciation escaping his lips.

'We'll have to be quiet,' Michael said through the kiss. 'Don't want to alert your brother to my presence.'

Sherlock whined softly against Michael's lips. 'My brother is an idiot. He'd warn me off you.'

'Your brother works with me,' Michael said softly, running his hands over Sherlock's stomach tenderly. 'He knows what I'm capable of and wouldn't want me to harm his only sibling. But I won't hurt you. I promise. You're my favourite. You always have been, ever since you were a little fledgling trying to fly and playing with Castiel and Gabriel. I always knew you were special, and I wanted you to be mine from the moment I first saw you.'

Sherlock gazed into Michael's eyes. He lost himself in those deep blue pools, tripping in them and falling for miles and miles, his heart speeding up in his chest. 'Why me? What makes me so special?'

'What doesn't make you special?' Michael said softly, tracing small circles on his arms. 'You're wonderful, smart, caring, and very attractive to boot.'

'I'm a fallen angel. There's nothing special about that,' Sherlock whispered against Michael's lips. 'You could do so much better.'

'I don't want better,' Michael said softly, unbuttoning Sherlock's top. 'I want you.'

Sherlock gasped and almost whimpered as his bare back was slowly revealed by the removal of his top. He huddled closer to Michael, his whole body shaking. Michael frowned deeply at the scars he felt along Sherlock's back. He looked up at Sherlock with sorrowful eyes, a thousand apologies in them.

'Don't,' Sherlock choked out. 'Just don't. I deserved to have my wings taken from me. I fell in love with a human.'

Michael pulled back, startled. 'In love? You never mentioned love. You said it was experimentation.'

Sherlock closed his eyes, suppressing a sob but failing completely. He broke down, tears streaming down his cheekbones, small wails escaping his lips, his whole body shaking even harder. Michael said nothing, just held Sherlock close, comforting him. He'd lost him then. Lost him to the human. So be it. He knew Sherlock could never be his. He had a mind all his own and refused to play by the rules. He should have seen this coming.

'And now I've completely fucked up with you! I'm sorry! Because I really do like you...' Sherlock's sobs grew louder. 'This is why I was better off dead!'

'Shush now,' Michael said softly. 'Don't say that. Please. It breaks my heart. I want you to live, Sherlock. And you haven't... messed things up with me. Not yet anyway. But do please watch your tongue around me. Those vulgar words do make me cringe.'

'I'm sorry,' Sherlock sniffled and bit his tongue hard. 'Will you still make love to me?'

'Yes, because you clearly need some loving. Would you feel more comfortable undressing yourself?'

Sherlock shook his head. 'Want you to do it. Just... try not to touch the back. It's still excruciating.'

'Ten years after the fact?' Michael asked softly, working on Sherlock's trousers. 'It still hurts?'

Sherlock sniffled miserably. 'I can still feel my flesh burning.'

'I can fix that,' Michael said softly, caressing Sherlock's face almost lovingly.

'I doubt it,' Sherlock whispered, voice small and broken.

'You underestimate me,' Michael smirked. 'But I don't have time for it right now. At the very least I can do this.' He gently placed his hands on Sherlock's back and closed his eyes, easing his pain and cooling the burns.

Sherlock gasped sharply. 'Oh. That's much better. Thank you.' He looked at Michael hungrily. 'How can I show my appreciation?'

'You can start by undressing me,' Michael purred.

Sherlock grinned and practically ripped Michael's clothes from him, flipping the older angel onto his front and pinning him down roughly. 'I'm going to enjoy this.'

'Sherlock?!' Michael cried out in worry. 'What are you doing?!'

Sherlock paused. 'I'm sorry. You don't like it rough? I can be gentle as a kitten if you like.' He kissed Michael's ear tenderly.

'I thought I was going to do the taking,' Michael stated. 'You  _did_  say you wanted  _me_ to make love to  _you_ , not the other way around.'

'But then you made my back feel better,' Sherlock whispered huskily. 'And I want to thank you. So, rough or gentle? Which one will it be?'

'Oh. So you taking me is your way of thanking me for fixing your back?' Michael purred. 'Then by all means, be as rough as you like. I can take it.'

Sherlock smirked. 'Fighting words, Michael.' He slicked his fingers and pushed one inside of Michael roughly. 'I'm not the same inexperienced angel you once knew.'

'You think I don't know that?' Michael groaned, the slick finger a welcome intrusion. 'You did have sexual relations with a human after all. I knew you'd have more experience since the last time we fooled around.'

'I'm not fooling around anymore,' Sherlock chuckled against Michael's ear. He shoved in two more fingers and pumped them in and out, nudging Michael's prostate eagerly.

'Oh!' Michael gasped out, sliding up onto his knees so Sherlock's fingers could delve deeper. 'Goodness, you've certainly gained more experience. Oh! Yes! There!' He groaned and grasped the bed sheets tight, rocking against Sherlock's fingers eagerly.

'I wouldn't have dreamed of even sticking my fingers up here before,' Sherlock laughed softly, stretching Michael wide. 'Imagine what I'll be sticking up there in a moment.'

'Oh I can't wait,' Michael moaned. 'Do hurry please. I can't stay much longer. The Council will begin to worry.'

Sherlock laughed in amusement. 'Don't hurry the pregnant man.' He stretched Michael further before pulling his fingers back and shoving his cock inside. Michael gasped loudly and bit into the duvet, muffling his cries of pleasure. He rocked back on Sherlock's massive member, his knees shaking slightly. He hadn't been expecting that. Yet another reason why he wanted Sherlock as his mate. He was excellent at love making now.

Sherlock rocked in and out of Michael steadily, his lips latching onto his neck and biting down into the soft flesh. Michael moaned loudly and rocked back against Sherlock, his own arousal straining and bouncing between his legs. His wings flapped in agitation and arousal, caressing Sherlock's chest as they moved.

'Who do you belong to?' Sherlock growled, sinking his teeth in deeper and rocking faster and harder.

'You!' Michael cried out, his inner submissive emerging.

'Say it louder, Michael. Scream my name,' Sherlock growled, pounding Michael harder.

'Sherlock!' Michael screamed, cumming hard. Sherlock tensed as he too felt a powerful orgasm washing over him.

'Michael! Oh god! Hell yes! Mmmf!'

'Sherlock?!' Mycroft shouted from behind the door, pounding his hands against it as it wouldn't open, not even to his own magic. 'Sherlock! Who's in there with you?! Is Michael with you?! Sherlock!'

'And that's my cue to leave,' Michael said softly. He pulled himself off Sherlock and quickly got dressed. 'Till next time?'

'Till next time,' Sherlock grinned goofily, his eyes glazed over from his post orgasm state. He was completely sated. A hand rubbed his belly and he sighed happily. 'Thank you for making my back feel better.'

'You're welcome,' Michael said softly, pressing a kiss to Sherlock's belly before capturing his lips. 'If you ever need me, just call, and I'll be there as soon as I can.'

'I'll be sure to do that,' Sherlock mumbled quietly, his eyes slipping shut. 'See you around.'

Michael smiled and unlocked Sherlock's door, disappearing just as Mycroft burst in.

'Sherlock!' he cried, rushing over to his side. 'What happened in here?'

'I fucked Michael into submission, that's what,' Sherlock grinned to himself, his hands gently stroking his belly.

'You... fucked Michael, the head angel of the Council... into  _submission?_ So he

 _was_  here? Did he hurt you?'

'Of course he didn't hurt me,' Sherlock scoffed. 'Damn fool said I'm his favourite.'

'He'd say anything to get into your pants,' Mycroft growled. 'Now tell me honestly, are you alright? Did he discover David or my children? Are we in danger?'

'Mycroft,' Sherlock growled back fiercely. 'You're not in any danger. It was I who fucked him, and I who suggested it. He didn't hurt me. In fact, he healed the scar on my back so it wouldn't pain me any longer. Michael and I have been in a slow courtship for years now. And for your information these are his first children. He doesn't have private breeders and he just wants me, no one else, just me.'

Mycroft's features softened slightly. 'Alright. Alright. Sorry. I believe you. Just... if you two are going to be courting one another, please don't do it here. There's too much to lose here, for both of us.'

'He came to me,' Sherlock whispered softly. 'I'm sorry, My. We just got caught up in the moment.'

'I realise that,' Mycroft scoffed, looking about the room. 'Just please use more caution next time. Go to a cheap hotel like most secret lovers do.'

'But then he'd really get suspicious,' Sherlock frowned. 'Besides, I have a sneaky feeling that he may already partly know about David. He's a great mind reader after all. He's just chosen to ignore the situation. I mean... he was the one to bring me back to life and all, so surely he looked into the situation more closely.'

'If you get my family in trouble though Sherlock, there will be severe consequences,' Mycroft growled. 'Please don't fuck this up, ok? I don't want to lose my family.'

Sherlock growled in the very depths of his throat, his nostrils flaring. 'Michael would never endanger our family, My. If he did I'd kill him. And don't think I'm joking either.'

'I don't doubt that you'd try, but he's very strong, very powerful, and ruthless. You would have to surprise him in order to be able to kill him.'

'I think you'd be surprised at how much Michael is under my thumb. I practically own him.'

'After one fucking?' Mycroft scoffed. 'Don't make me laugh. Michael may have his submissive moments but  _don't_  try to fuck him over. You will sorely regret it.'

Sherlock laughed briefly. 'I wouldn't expect you to understand. I think you underestimate me and my powers.'

'Of course I do,' Mycroft huffed. 'I saw you  _die_. Where were your powers then? You had John fight for you and he got injured. He can't remember the circumstances of that injury now though. Can't remember defending you or your son or all the times he spent with you. He still thinks he's waiting for his guardian angel. Now he'll get a new one when the time comes. And the time will come, Sherlock. Trust me. We've already got a new one picked out for him.'

Sherlock's jaw locked, his eyes cold and unfeeling. 'John is none of my business anymore. He was a mistake. A stupid mistake that I wish I could erase.'

'Thanks a whole fucking lot,' David growled from the door. Mycroft spun around and stared at the boy. How had he not heard him approach? He was getting better at silent travel.

'So you mean to say that meeting my father was a mistake? That  _I'm_  a mistake? Do you want to erase me too? Because I can wipe myself off the face of the goddamn earth if you want. Don't look at me like that you bitch. You have no idea what the past ten years have been like for me. I lost both my fathers at the tender age of one! And you see what it's done to me! And now you say loving my father was a  _mistake?!_ You might as well have said that I was one too. Well fuck you very much.' He ran off and out of the mansion, taking flight and soaring off to god knows where. Maybe his father's again. He needed to check up on him. See how he was doing. Yeah. He'd go to John. John liked him, unlike Sherlock.

Sherlock let his head fall onto his pillow with a soft thunk, his eyes sliding shut. 'I didn't mean that at all. I wouldn't change what happened between John and I for the world. I just meant... that I wish we hadn't fallen in love. Look at all the damage I have caused just because I was weak enough to let a human into my heart. Look at how fucked up our lives have become. And it's all my fault.'

'It still sounds like you wished David hadn't been brought into the picture,' Mycroft said softly. 'But I understand. I've done the same thing and I've endangered both our lives by bringing children into the mix. But I don't regret it or wish it had never happened. Gregory is the love of my life, and I wouldn't trade him for the world.'

'You're lucky.' Sherlock choked on his words, tears stinging his eyes. 'At least your human remembers you.'

'That's because I haven't died, Sherlock,' Mycroft said gently. 'Though now that you're alive I think John's memories might be able to come back. They say that a human's memories of their angel aren't deleted, just locked away. And occasionally memories leak through. So it could be possible for John to remember.'

'What use would that do?' Sherlock sobbed softly. 'Michael has tabs on me left, right, and centre. I so much as sneeze and he'd know about it. I can't initiate contact with John. Besides, what would I say? "Oh, sorry you thought I was dead. I guess we were all wrong about that. Surprise. I'm alive."'

'I don't know,' Mycroft shrugged. 'I just thought it might add some optimism or something to the situation. David goes to see him a lot. John doesn't know he's his son, but he cares for the boy.'

Sherlock swallowed, a fat tear dribbling from his eye. 'Take me to him.'

'Alright,' Mycroft nodded. 'But put some clothes on please.'

Sherlock sighed wearily and gathered his clothes that had been discarded previously. He pulled on his trousers and buttoned up his top before shuffling off the bed and standing to his feet. 'Let's go.'

Mycroft sighed and took Sherlock's hand, transporting them both to John's home. David was definitely inside. He was in the dining room window, eating what looked like pancakes, eggs, and bacon. John was with him at the table, drinking coffee.

'Should I wait till David has finished dining with him? He clearly hates me for what I put him through. It would only complicate things if I were to visit John whilst David was still with him.'

'I would wait, yes,' Mycroft said softly. 'Oh dear.' The woman John had chosen had arrived, giving him a quick peck on the lips and waving at David before leaving for her classes.

Sherlock swallowed, his eyes glazing over sadly. 'So he and Mary finally sealed the deal. Brilliant.'

'The girl can't have children though,' Mycroft said as if to ease Sherlock's worries.

Sherlock sighed sadly. 'He has a child. He's looking him right in the face.'

'But he doesn't know David is his,' Mycroft said sadly. 'And it kills David inside that his father doesn't even know he's his father. I can see it written all over his face.'

'And in his eyes it's all my fault. I caused John to forget him. I got myself killed, abandoned him and John, and caused David to become an orphan.'

'He'll come around eventually,' Mycroft assured him. 'He found John and he's a lot better than he was before.'

'He won't forgive me,' Sherlock stated sadly. 'But then I don't deserve his forgiveness.'

'Perhaps he might if you and John can still get on.'

'He's the man I love,' Sherlock whispered sadly. 'Of course we'll still get on.'

'Well, it looks like David's leaving. Do you want to go talk to John?'

Sherlock nodded and licked his lips nervously. 'Once he's gone, yes.'

Mycroft nodded and waited for David to exit the house. The boy waved at John before he left and took off, flying away. Mycroft waited to see if he'd truly gone before taking Sherlock's hand and squeezing it securely.

'Let's go.'

Sherlock squeezed his brother's hand back tightly and swallowed anxiously. 'Lead the way, brother.'

Mycroft gave Sherlock a small smile and lead him to the front door of John's home, pausing before raising his knuckles to the door and knocking gently. Sherlock's breath caught in his throat as John answered the door. Oh god. What the hell was he doing?

'Oh. Hello,' he said in greeting, smiling at the angels at his doorstep. 'Can I help you?'

Sherlock took a deep breath. 'That may depend on a lot of things. Can we come in?'

'Oh. Um, sure.' He moved to remove himself from the doorway but paused. 'Sorry, but I didn't get your names.'

'I'm Sherlock.' He paused as John's eyes widened, a spark of something flaring within them.

Sherlock. That name seemed so familiar. Something important and years in the past. He winced and rubbed his forehead, smiling apologetically at the men on his doorstep.

'Sorry. Headaches are becoming more frequent these days. But do come in. Are you here for a consultation?'

'Erm...' Sherlock nodded and glanced down at his swollen stomach. 'Yes. As you can see, I'm expecting. I heard you were one of the very best doctors out there.'

'Oh. Well, thank you,' John grinned. 'Come in. Come in. Take a seat on the sofa. I'll get some tea and biscuits.'

'Jammy Dodgers?' Sherlock smiled weakly as he entered the building.

'Coming right up,' John grinned politely. Mycroft lead Sherlock to the sitting room, sitting him on the couch while he himself took a chair over in the corner.

'You're the patient,' he told Sherlock gently. 'You get to lay on the couch.'

Sherlock smirked up at his brother, stretching his form out along the sofa. He placed his hands on his stomach, the twins strangely quiet. Maybe all that had happened with Michael had tired them out? John returned with a plate of Jammy Dodgers and three mugs of tea.

'Hope Earl Grey is ok,' he said upon entering. He set the plate and a mug by Sherlock, giving another mug to Mycroft. The last he saved for himself. He took his seat by the couch and put his tea on the table, looking at Sherlock as he ate all the biscuits.

'So, Sherlock, was it? How can I help?'

'Well,' Sherlock said around a mouthful of Jammy Dodgers, 'I was rather hoping you'd just give my children and I a general health check. I can't go to a mainstream doctor. I'm a fallen angel. No offence, but most doctors would kill a fallen angel if they had the chance.'

'Sure,' John nodded. 'That's why I started this at-home clinic. As a place for fallen angels to take refuge and for those who needed help could get it. My mother inspired me to start this place.' He smiled fondly and took a sip of his tea before continuing. 'So you just wanted a routine checkup? See how your babies are doing and all that?'

'That's correct.' Sherlock nodded and smiled warmly at John, taking a large gulp of his tea. 'And your mother... I believe I used to know her. Before I fell. How is she?'

'Ah! That's why your name sounded familiar!' John exclaimed. 'My mother would talk about you all the time. Saying you were one of her favourite angels. She was devastated when she heard that you'd... died...' John trailed off and looked at Sherlock before realisation dawned on him. 'They resurrected you. To help their population. Yes, I know about that. One of my patients, Mrs Hudson, has informed me of what goes on up there. How on earth did you escape?'

'There are angels out there fighting for those who have fallen. I was helped out by one. He unfortunately died whilst saving me.' Sherlock's eyes gazed over sadly. 'I didn't want to leave there at first. I was hooked on becoming pregnant you see. I don't like not being up the duff. It almost pains me. I feel so empty inside.'

Sherlock shifted his eyes to look at John. God. He'd changed so much. He was hopelessly handsome. He frowned when he saw John clutching his stomach, a pained expression on his features. Oh dear. He sorely hoped he hadn't triggered John's body into craving for impregnation, or god forbid somehow caused him to have mock pregnancies from now on. It had been known to happen.

'You should eat,' he stated softly.

'Right. Yeah,' John said absently, standing up and moving into the kitchen. He stood by the sink, grasping the edge of the counter tight, his arms shaking. What the hell was going on with him lately? Headaches, vomiting, nausea, and hunger pains that didn't exactly make him feel hungry for food. He would just feel so empty but didn't know what to do to fix it. He just knew food wouldn't help. He made himself drink a glass of water before returning, composing himself as he sat down.

'Sorry. Low blood sugar,' he lied. 'So, do you want to head to the back room and we can get the ultrasound out?'

Sherlock studied John carefully, deep concern shining in his eyes. He stood slowly and nodded. 'Are you sure you're not the one in need of a doctor? You look awfully peaky.'

John was still clutching his stomach, almost doubling over in agony now. It had been ten years since his body had started craving to be knocked up. No wonder the cravings were so severe now that Sherlock was back in his life.

'No, I'm fine,' John said through gritted teeth. He forced himself to stand up, knowing his face must have been contorted in pain. 'Come on. This way. And excuse the mess. We're trying to renovate the back of the house into proper patient screening rooms.'

Sherlock walked over to John and grasped his wrist lightly. 'Are you sure you're alright?' John turned to face him, his eyes black as night with arousal.

'I... I don't understand,' he choked out, his eyes raking over Sherlock's body hungrily. 'I... I'm having pregnancy cravings. But why? I haven't been impregnanted by an angel before. Fuck!' He doubled over, gasping for breath, and clutched onto Sherlock tight. His head was killing him, his stomach was begging to be filled with an angel's child, and he felt like he was going to throw up.

'Come on you.' Sherlock lifted John into his arms and carried him to the sofa, placing him down gently on it. He glanced over to his brother, telling him to leave before lying down on the sofa with John, his pregnant belly brushing against John's slim stomach. 'It's ok. The pain will fade. I promise.'

Mycroft left to inspect the rest of the house, going upstairs to snoop in the bedroom. John stared at Sherlock wide eyed, his breathing harsh and shallow.

'I don't understand,' he repeated. 'How can I be feeling this way? And... God damn you've got gorgeous eyes. Wait! No! Stop! What am I doing?! I'm married!'

'You're married?' Sherlock asked sadly, his voice small. 'Oh.' He hadn't been expecting that.

'Yeah. High school sweethearts,' John said, smiling softly as he thought of Mary. He groaned and clutched at his stomach, feeling something akin to a contraction rolling through him. 'Bloody hell.'

'I can make your pain go away. Share the feeling of being full to you,' Sherlock whispered, tenderly rubbing John's stomach. 'It might make you feel starving though. You'll have to eat loads. But it's better than the emptiness and the pain.'

'No,' John grit out. 'No. That wouldn't make this better. I just need pills. And you should start taking them too. They'll help counteract the pregnancy cravings.'

Sherlock leaned in closer, frowning in concern. He heard John's breath hitch and suddenly he was being flipped onto his back and John was rutting against him like a wild animal.

'I want you to fill me with your children! I want you to fuck me and make me yours! Oh god please, Sherlock! Sherlock, yes!' John cried out, not knowing what he was hearing himself cry out. It wasn't until he neared his release that he realised the implications of all he'd said. He scrambled off Sherlock and distanced himself as far away from the fallen angel as possible.

'I... I'm sorry. I don't know what that was. Um... I think we'll skip the check-up today and reschedule. And I'll give you some of those pills I mentioned as well. But I think it's best you and your... friend... leave.'

Sherlock felt his heart clench in his chest. 'Please, John, there's something I need to tell you.' He sat up on the sofa, hugging his stomach protectively. 'There's so much you need to know. Can we at least have lunch? You won't regret it.'

John stood in his corner silently, trembling slightly, mulling over the angel's words. He swallowed and nodded, but held up a hand to silence the alluring man on his couch.

'Not today though,' he said, his voice hoarse. 'You'll have to give me some time to... come to terms with what I'm feeling. Sometime next week, ok? I'll give you one of my cards and you can call me.' He eased away from the wall and ventured into the storage room, grabbing two bottles of pills that helped counteract the pregnancy hormones brought on by birthing an angel. He pocketed one and brought the other and one of his business cards over to Sherlock.

'You really should leave now,' he said bluntly. 'I need to be alone.'

A tear dribbled down Sherlock's face and he stood to his feet. 'I've missed you.,' he whispered, voice shaking.

'Missed me? But we've only just met! Just go. Please. I need to be alone to sort out my thoughts.'

Sherlock nodded in understanding. 'May I use your bathroom before I leave?' he asked quietly.

John could feel it coming. The break. He was hyperventilating, his vision was fuzzy, and his sole focus was on trying not to blow up in front of the angel. But it was so close, right there.

'No,' he said as gently as he could manage. 'Please just go. Pl–'  _Oh shit. No!_  John screamed and crumpled in a heap onto the floor, his arms around his head as the break came and snapped. 'Just get out!' he screamed. 'Out! Out! Now!'

Sherlock screamed, jumping out of his skin in fright. The twins gave an unhappy kick to his bladder and he felt hot liquid pouring down his legs. Tears began to trickle from his eyes and soon that trickle became a flood. He rushed from the room, his heart thundering in his chest. Dashing outside he quickly blocked his family bonds so neither Mycroft or David could find him, and he got as far away from John's home as possible, ducking down hidden alleyways and back streets.

Mycroft dashed downstairs at the sound of John's scream, catching a glimpse of Sherlock running away. He apologised to John and ran out after his brother, taking to the sky to search for him.

John gasped for air as he sobbed, his arm wrapping around himself as if to keep himself from crumbling apart. He had to get ahold of himself before his next patient came in. He stood slowly and made his way over to the bathroom, making a mental note to mop the floor. He took his bottle of pills with him and went into the bathroom, throwing up violently when he made it to the loo. He clutched at his empty stomach and sobbed harder when he realised what it meant.

He'd had a guardian angel, he'd had a child with him (the only possible solution as female angels couldn't impregnate a male human), and his angel had died. Everyone knew that when a guardian died their human forgot about him or her and moved on as if they'd never had a guardian at all. So what had happened to his guardian and when had he gotten him? He cried out again when the headache he'd been trying to ignore became excruciating. He screamed and clutched his head, curling up in a ball on the cool file floor. He felt like something was trying to escape his mind, and escape it did. He felt blood trickle down his nose as he passed out, his eyes rolling into his skull. And while it stopped the pain it didn't stop the memories from resurfacing.


	36. Seeking Council

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Cutting, depressed!angel Sherlock, and suicidal thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! So, onwards to 2015. This story may be a bit delayed because I have to wade my way through old emails to find some bits that are currently missing. I ended this in the place I thought best. I should hopefully be able to fill in the gaps and upload another chapter soon. Comments are always appreciated. Please note, if you're new to this story, that we are sadists and although this story does have its happy moments, there are plenty of sad times ahead too.

Sherlock stopped moving when he was certain no one would be able to find him. His chest was heaving heavily and his stomach was cramping badly. Yeh, probably not a very good idea to run whilst pregnant. He spotted a hole in the brick wall of the alleyway that he was currently in and quickly clambered in to it, just in time too as it had started raining. By the looks of things it looked like it was going to storm quite badly too, the black clouds in the sky almost suffocating him with their intensity.

He shivered as the ran began to pour down heavily, a gust of cold wind blowing into his hiding place. He wished that he had wings so that he could keep himself warm. His back twinged slightly with a faint phantom pain, a reminder that he no longer had wings and he'd never feel the warmth of his own feathers curling around him ever again.

He closed his eyes, whimpering and whining as he pined after his old life with his lover and with a son that looked up to him and didn't hate him with a passion.

Despite the heavy rain, Mycroft refused to give up in his search. Sherlock was out there somewhere and he wasn't going to leave him alone in the rain. He took refuge under a shop's awning and closed his eyes, searching for his brother. But the bond was blocked.

'You honestly think that will stop me?' He mumbled aloud. 'I'm older and more powerful than you, dear brother.' He repaired the bond easily and found out where Sherlock was hiding. He grabbed an umbrella from a vendor and went out to search for his brother, finding him in an actual hole in the wall, shivering and freezing cold. Mycroft picked him up and wrapped his wings around him, covering him in the soft warmth of his feathers.

'Let's get you home,' he whispered softly, transporting them both to Sherlock's bedroom. He removed his sopping wet clothes and helped his little brother into bed, wrapping the covers around him snugly.

'Get some rest, Sherlock,' he whispered, placing a soft kiss to his temple. 'I'll be back to check on you later.'

Sherlock waited until his brother was gone before rolling out of bed, padding to the bathroom. His whole body was shaking fiercely and his breathing was harsh and painful. He eyed the box of blades that he knew his brother kept hidden on top of the cabinet behind a bunch of beauty products.

Vain bastard, Sherlock sneered.

He knocked the bottles off the cabinet and grabbed a blade from the box. He held it between two fingers, eyeing it carefully before bringing it down on his pale flesh, slicing long and deep cuts into his flesh. The blood pumped from his veins as a red waterfall.

Mycroft found Gregory and the kids in the kitchen, David in the sitting room watching TV. He took a seat next to Sky and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, ruffling her hair slightly.

'Hey,' she pouted, trying to fix her hair. 'You ok, Papa? You look sad.'

'I'm fine,' Mycroft told her gently, hauling her up onto his lap. 'Better now that you guys are all here. What's on the menu, Gregory?'

'Pasta bake with chicken and bacon,' Greg answered, sprinkling some cheese on top of the pasta dish he'd prepared. 'It's just gotta cook for twenty minutes and then we can eat.'

'Sounds good,' Mycroft grinned. 'What shall we do whilst we wait?'

'Well, you can explain about the hobo you brought home who you insist is your dead brother, and Sher's namesake.' The little boy who'd named himself after his uncle blinked up at Mycroft and Rupert rubbed his shoulder gently.

'OK,' Mycroft sighed. 'Everyone to the sitting room. I've got a story to tell.'

As Sherlock cut into his flesh more insistently he could feel a nearing presence of another angel. He ignored it however. Whoever was watching him now was going to witness his suicide and the murder of two beautiful baby angels. He was almost certain it was Michael and that only made his cuts more vicious. Tears welled in his eyes as he collapsed onto the ground with a scream. Why was he so fucked up?

Michael entered Sherlock's room in a flurry, feeling his daughters' panic as their host became agitated and began hurting himself. He almost screamed when he saw Sherlock laying in a bloody heap on the floor. He knelt down and ran his hands over the deep cuts in Sherlock's arms, thighs, and neck. He smoothed a hand over Sherlock's belly, calming the girls down and lulling them to sleep. He picked Sherlock up and carried him into bed, curling up against him and wrapping his wings around him protectively.

**...::-::...**

When Sherlock awoke he felt warm and safe. He snuggled up against the warmth and hummed. He could hear hushed voices. One of them definitely belonged to Michael. The other sounded a lot like David... what on Earth? What had led Michael here and why was the son that supposedly hated him talking to Michael?

Then the image of blood pooling from thick cuts in his skin flashed in his mind and he instantly panicked. Michael would be angry at him. He was even more likely to hurt David now! So what were Michael and David doing talking like old chums?

'I know of your parentage, David,' Michael said softly. 'But at this point in time I couldn't care less that you're half human. It's your angel side I care about. And you're a very strong angel.'

'Thanks?' David said, the question heavy in his response. 'So... You're my dad's new lover?'

'It would appear so, yes,' Michael said gently. 'He's carrying my first ever children, and I would appreciate it if you could watch over him when I can't. He's still your dad, even if he's come back from the dead. His love for you hasn't changed. So please be kind to him. He needs you right now.'

David took in a deep breath and nodded. 'OK.'

Sherlock cracked an eye open and stared at David sorrowfully before turning to Michael. 'You're not going to kill my boy?' he asked in a small voice.

'No,' Michael said softly. 'So long as you don't threaten the lives of my daughters again, your boy will be safe.'

'I'm sorry, Michael,' Sherlock apologised, thick tears building in his eyes. 'I just... I wish I was dead.'

'Don't you ever say that!' Michael growled menacingly. 'Now, I know you went to visit your human, and I know what happened. If he remembers there could be drastic consequences. Death the most practical option.'

'Then make it stop!' Sherlock wailed. 'Make me forget him! Because I loved that bloody idiot so much, Mike. He was the father of my child.' He pointed to David. 'And he was the love of my life. And I can't stop pining after him so just erase him from my fucking memory! Or better yet, wait till your offspring have been born and kill me!'

'I'm afraid neither option is feasible,' Michael growled.

'Please, Michael,' Sherlock begged, tears streaming down his cheekbones. 'I'm in so much pain. Just make it stop.'

'I can't ease the type of pain you're in,' Michael stated sadly. 'Angels can't fix emotional pain. And I won't kill you or wipe your memory. And I shall advise your son and brother not to as well, should they want to be reported to the High Council for illicit activities with humans.' He looked at David and frowned. 'And an illegal existence as well.'

David growled, his feathers rustling in agitation. 'If you weren't such an uppity angel I'd sock you.'

'If you value your life then you won't,' Michael countered.

'Then what do I do?' Sherlock whispered, sniffling loudly. 'These thoughts... of killing myself... they aren't going anywhere anytime soon. And I can't die again, Michael. I can't leave my family again.' He glanced up at David. 'No matter how much they resent me, I can't do it to them. I just can't.'

'You seek council,' Michael said softly. 'Find someone who you trust, who you can talk to. Though it is ill advised, perhaps your human could be of some help. Or his mother. I know she was particularly fond of you. Especially after you "fixed" her husband.'

Sherlock blushed and cleared his throat awkwardly. 'I know we're not meant to fuc– to alter human personalities, but he was a threat to John and I was merely trying to protect him and do my job.'

'You did an excellent job with him though,' Michael assured him softly. 'He's a wonderful human. And your child with him isn't all that bad either.' He smiled over at David. 'Though I disapprove of your choice of dress.'

David scowled and looked at his completely black ensemble. 'You'd have issues too if you watched your father die and the other one forget you existed. This is my armour.'

'Are you forgetting what I used to wear?' Sherlock joked, trying to lighten the mood. 'I was worse than David. Much worse. But then I did see my father– never mind.' He shook his head and blinked back a fresh set of tears. 'I'm not going to go there.'

'Yes. Let's not go there,' Michael agreed.

Sherlock sighed sleepily and nodded, thankful that Michael allowed it be. He really didn't want to dig up his past in any shape or form. 'Maybe I should get some more sleep. I'm exhausted.'

'Sure. Do you want me to stay? Or do you want to spend some time with David?'

Sherlock shrugged slightly. 'That would depend on David.'

'I... I guess I could stay,' David said quietly.

'Then that settles it,' Michael smiled. He pressed a kiss to Sherlock's forehead and clambered out of the bed, clapping David on the shoulder. 'Watch after your dad while I'm gone. And try not to be so angry. He was gone but now he's back. Do try to spend some time with him now that he's here.'

'Ok,' David said softly.

'Good. Sherlock, I'll be back to check on the twins' progress in about a month's time. Do take care of yourself and them. And for goodness sake, eat something! You're still skin and bone.'

Sherlock nodded and curled in on himself, his arms wrapped around his stomach. He shivered at the sudden loss of warmth and glanced up at David with soft eyes. David cleared his throat and slid off his shoes and jacket before climbing into bed with his dad. He wrapped his wings around him protectively and rested his forehead against Sherlock's shoulder blades. Michael pulled the blankets up to cover Sherlock's stomach and smiled softly before disappearing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End notes from TSA:
> 
> Hello, everyone! Apologies for the long delay between updates. I've been trying to focus on my schoolwork so I could raise my GPA so I could apply for studying abroad! I've begun the application process but won't hear of my acceptance (or rejection *sob sob) until mid-March. Wish me luck!
> 
> I also hope to continue to update this story, as well as Second Star, on a semi-regular basis. Given our busy schedules, we may not be able to update as often as we would like, but I hope to update at least twice a month. We'll do our best to stick to that, but it depends on what's going on in our lives at that time on whether or not we'll be able to update. But we'll try our best to update when we can.
> 
> ~TSA


	37. Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone. Here we are with another update. Sorry this has been such a long time coming. MBC and I are both very busy with coursework right now and I'm also working two jobs on top of that, so I have very little time to myself, let alone write for fun.
> 
> Like it was said in our last update, we'll be limiting updates to twice a month. Sometimes it may only be once a month depending on how busy we are. But we'll definitely be posting in March as I have a week off the week of the 9th. So that time will be used for writing and updating and de-stressing.
> 
> Thank you all for your patience and kind words. We'll see you in a couple weeks.
> 
> ~TSA + MBC
> 
>  
> 
> _  
> **Trigger Warnings for this chapter: rape (it has been labeled so you can skip it if you want to)**  
>  _
> 
>  
> 
> _Warnings for this chapter: father/son feels, Sherlock has wild hormones, and there is some vomiting of blood_

David cleared his throat and slid off his shoes and jacket before climbing into bed with his dad. He wrapped his wings around him protectively and rested his forehead against Sherlock's shoulder blades. Michael pulled the blankets up to cover Sherlock's stomach and smiled softly before disappearing.

'Thank you,' Sherlock whispered, cuddling against David's warmth. He gently brushed his fingertips over his son's wings. 'They're beautiful. So much like my mother's,' he mused.

'Your mother's?' David asked gently. He looked at his wings and smiled softly. 'I have your mother's wings?'

'Yes, you do.' Sherlock hiccuped a sob and clutched onto David, shaking as the past caught up with him, the sight of his mother's bloodied and torn wings painfully vivid.

'Oh shit. Dad?' David shook his shoulder gently. 'Dad, it's OK. It's OK.'

'No! No, it's not OK!' Sherlock sobbed louder.

'Oh shit. Shit! Uncle Myc! Help!' David hollered, desperately holding onto Sherlock in an attempt to still him.

'No!' Sherlock took a deep breath, steadying himself slightly. 'No,' he said in a quieter voice. 'Don't get Mycroft. It's fine. I'm fine.'

David dismissed Mycroft as soon as he appeared, hugging his dad close. 'I'm sorry,' he whispered. 'I didn't mean to upset you.'

Sherlock shook his head. 'No. It's fine. You weren't to know that my mother triggers bad memories.'

'Yeah. Uncle Myc did tell me a little about your mum. Said she was beautiful and kind and smart. I wish I could have met her. Do you think she would have liked me given my parentage?'

'You're my son. She wouldn't have had any choice but to fall in love with you.'

'Oh. Good,' David breathed out in relief. 'You should probably go to sleep though. I know you need to eat and sleep a lot when you're carrying an angel. Greg does it all the time and I know John did as well.'

Sherlock sighed and nodded. 'Yeh. Being pregnant is a pain in the arse, David. Don't you ever try it. Believe me. It's painfully dull and you have a tiny leach inside you, draining you and making you starving all the time.'

'Yeah. I'd rather not get pregnant. I'd much rather do the impregnating.' He flushed and cleared his throat. 'Sorry. I'm only eleven by human standards but I look at least twenty. Human girls really like me. Especially the ones who dress like me.'

'David,' Sherlock tsked. 'If I find out you've been impregnating innocent females you'll be in big trouble. Have you not learnt from my mistakes? Do you want to lose your wings? No. If you're desperate to impregnate people you go to the angel factory and you do your work there.'

'No. I... I'm still a virgin,' David gulped out, flushing furiously. 'And I'd rather not go to the factory. I can't even get into Heaven, so I hardly doubt I'd be able to get into the rape factory.'

'Right. Just... try not to impregnate young girls. At least wait till you've found the one you want to settle down with. And even then, just take it slow.'

'It's hard though,' David sighed. 'The human girls only like me because I'm forbidden fruit. And any angels I come across can sense I'm different and refuse to talk to me. Though a few angels have been understanding and have helped me out. And then I found John and he's helped me out so much. I missed him, and while it hurts that he doesn't know who I really am to him, it's good to talk to him.'

'I'm trying to unlock his memories,' Sherlock admitted quietly. 'But that backfired. It just made him angry and he screamed at me to get out. I really think we've lost our John for good.'

'I can go talk to him tomorrow if you like,' David suggested. 'He and Mary both really like me. He might open up to me.'

'Yeh. I'd appreciate that.' Sherlock yawned loudly. 'I really need to crash.'

'I probably should too,' David yawned. 'It's been a few day's since I've slept.'

'Mmm. Sleep.' Sherlock hummed and closed his eyes. 'And David? Don't do anything stupid.'

'What makes you think I will?' David asked, raising an eyebrow.

'You're my son. You're bound to do something stupid at one point or another,' Sherlock mumbled, a soft snore escaping his mouth.

'Thanks,' David scoffed. He laid with Sherlock for a while until he deemed him fully asleep. He pulled away slowly, pulling the blankets tighter around Sherlock to keep him warm, and ventured out of the house. He flew around for a while, feeling the wind whip through his hair and savouring the completely freeing feeling that flying gave him. He decided to go visit his friend Rose after a while of flying.

 _Rose,_  he hummed to himself. Rose was always so nice to him, and her caramel hair and light blue eyes always made his heart skip a beat. He'd had a crush on her for a while now but he'd never had the courage to tell her. She probably wouldn't have wanted to enter a relationship with a freak like him anyway. It was forbidden. But she was so sweet and kind and gave him food sometimes. He loved her, or at least thought he did, and he loved spending time with her. Perhaps now that his father was finally back he could work up the courage to tell her how he felt. He flew to her house and landed on the roof outside her window. It was open, like always, but he knocked anyway, letting her know he was there.

Rose jumped out of her skin. She'd been completely absorbed in writing her latest Sherlock role play with her American penpal and so the sudden knock on the window had startled her. She smiled when she saw that the disturbance had come from a certain angel hovering outside her window.

'David. Come on in.' She gestured for the angel to come inside.

'Hey Rose,' David smiled, sliding into her room and sitting cross-legged on her bed. 'Sorry I haven't visited in a while. I was in one of my moods. You know how those can be. And I didn't want to subject you to my mindless wrath again.'

'Nonsense.' Rose giggled and moved over to David, blushing a bright red as she locked eyes with him. He had the most beautiful eyes she'd ever seen. David flushed a bright shade of pink and swallowed thickly. God damn Rose had such a powerful effect on his hormones. Fucking hell. He swallowed again and opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. A pathetic sounding squeak did and he shut his jaw with a snap, flushing red in embarrassment.

'Are you... OK?' Rose asked lamely, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear and chewing nervously on her lower lip. David was the first man to ever have given her the time of day and he was standing in her bedroom right now. And god he was an angel... and he was drop dead gorgeous.

David attempted to speak again but still couldn't. So, he finally decided to let his actions speak for him. He gently cupped Rose's face in his hands and tilted her head up slightly, leaning in nervously. Finally their lips touched and everything was bliss, his mind completely empty and devoid of any thoughts except for one:  _Wow._

Rose froze as she felt soft yet slightly rough lips connect with hers. This was her first ever kiss and with an angel no less. It wasn't perfect. They're noses collided a couple of times and it was sloppy and probably completely rubbish as far as kisses went, but that made it all the more perfect. David hummed and tried to move closer to Rose, ignoring his very obvious erection. This wasn't about his cock. This was about finally kissing the girl. Though he felt really hot under the collar. A lot hotter than usual too. Oh god. What the hell was happening?!

'That was... um... nice,' Rose whispered quietly against David's lips. 'Wait- why are you glowing red? Oh my god! David, what's happening to you?!'

**[Warning: rape scene ahead]**

David's breathing was harsh and shallow, he could feel his pulse quickening, his heart pounding in his ears, and if he concentrated he could have felt his pupils grow so large they turned his eyes almost completely black. He had one last rational thought,  _Fuck_ , before his biology took over.

He leapt at Rose, kissing her furiously, his hands tearing at their clothes. The sound of ripping material filled the room, though the cries of Rose's feeble attempts at getting away were there too. David silenced her with a rough hand and studied her petite body for a moment before instinct took over and he shoved himself inside her.

Rose was screaming and struggling against David, tears dripping down her cheeks as her virginity was taken from her in a violent and horrific way.

He couldn't stop. There was too much sensation and it felt too damn good and he couldn't stop. He bit into Rose's neck possessively as he came violently, the light that had been surrounding him filtered into Rose's body and disappeared, and with it his animalistic instincts. He collapsed against the girl in exhaustion, oblivious to her screams and cries for the moment.

'Get off me!' Rose sobbed, clutching her stomach. She knew only too well what that red light meant and there was nothing in the slightest bit good about it. 'I said get off of me you monster! You've gotten what you wanted! Just go!'

'Hrm? What?' David looked over at Rose and froze. Oh no. Fucking hell. This wasn't good at all. Shit! What was he supposed to do now? He scrambled off the bed and toward the window, abandoning his clothes.

'I... I'm sorry,' he stammered. 'You can get rid of it, if you want. I...' He swallowed thickly and leapt out the window, flying back to the manor as fast as he could.

**[end scene]**

Sherlock had just woken up. He was groggy and absolutely starving. David must have left at some point so he guessed he'd have to get his own food. He groaned as he looked down at his stomach. It might have been his imagination but his stomach had grown significantly whilst he'd been asleep. Probably the growth hormone used to speed along pregnancies still in his system. Either way he felt massive and swollen and there was no way he was bothering getting up.

He whined loudly. 'My! My! Get your arse down here! I need food!'

Mycroft sighed and rolled his eyes. Living in a household with two pregnant men was going to be very trying indeed. He had the chefs whip up a breakfast buffet. He grabbed some of everything, pancakes and eggs and bacon and sausage and all kinds of fruit, and carried it all to Sherlock's room.

'Permission to enter, Your Majesty?' he asked, voice thick with sarcasm.

Sherlock growled. 'Give me the food and piss off, My.' He shifted in the bed uncomfortably, his stomach falling heavily onto his lap. 'Just hurry. I'm fucking starving.'

Mycroft sighed and set the tray of food by Sherlock on the bed. He left without speaking and went to grab his own meagre breakfast of toast and milk.

Sherlock dug into his food, hungrier than he'd ever felt in his life. Carrying female twins was a very draining ordeal indeed. He was so busy eating that he barely registered his son till he crawled into the covers as a shaking ball.

'My god!' he gasped. 'What's wrong, David? Tell me, now preferably!'

'I did something stupid,' David choked out, trembling like a leaf.

Sherlock sighed loudly. 'What was it? And don't bother lying to me, David.'

'I knocked up my best friend!' David wailed. 'I couldn't stop myself! I was glowing red and my angel instincts took over and I raped my best friend!'

Sherlock blinked in surprise and sighed again. 'Like father, like son.' He looked at David, confused. 'You're not meant to get your heats till you're older. We should tell your uncle about this. He'll help.'

'Heat? I went into heat?' David choked on a sob and buried himself deeper in the blankets. 'I feel like such a fucking idiot! Rose probably hates me now! I just wanna die!'

'This isn't your fault, David,' Sherlock said softly. 'We'll fix this. Just... please don't say you want to die. That scares the hell out of me. We'll go to your uncle now and everything is going to be just fine.'

'Will he be able to wipe Rose's memory? I don't want her to remember this. She should be able to move on without this horrible memory plaguing her.'

'I'm sure that's possible, yes,' Sherlock whispered gently, squeezing David's shoulder slightly in reassurance. 'Now, come on. You're going to have to help me out of bed.'

'OK,' David choked out. He scrambled out from under the blankets and grabbed Sherlock's arms securely, hauling him up and out of bed.

Sherlock grunted, a hand smoothing down his stomach. 'Come on then. He's in the garden I think.'

Sherlock and David shuffled to the garden slowly, their heads hung in shame; one man pregnant and the other replaying the past few hours over and over again within his mind.

Mycroft was out tending to the flowers, Sky watering them as she followed him about the garden.

'Hi, David!' Sky called out, waving at her cousin and sloshing some water down her shirt. Mycroft looked up and frowned at the sight of David and Sherlock. Something was horribly wrong.

'Sky, why don't you go inside and water your own plants, OK? Papa needs to talk to David alone for a bit.'

'OK.' Sky pressed a kiss to her papa's cheek and scampered back into the house and to her room, sneaking peaks out her window that overlooked the massive garden.

'David-' Sherlock took a deep breath, '-has got something to tell you.'

Mycroft looked at David expectantly and David took a deep breath, trying his best to look his uncle in the face.

'I... went to visit my friend Rose... and I went into my first heat... and I... I raped and impregnated her.'

Sherlock squeezed David's shoulder gently. 'It's OK, son. We'll sort this. Won't we, My?'

'Of course,' Mycroft nodded. 'We'll fix this. Do you want her to get rid of the baby?'

'Yes,' David said softly. 'I'm not ready to be a dad. I'm only ten! And... would it be possible to wipe Rose's memory of the whole thing? I don't want to ruin her whole outlook on life because of what I did to her.'

'We'll take you to John later too so you can start on suppressants to stop this from happening again,' Sherlock said softly. 'Though perhaps it's best you visit him without me. I'm rather afraid he hates me.'

'Right. OK.' David nodded again. He ambled back into the mansion and made himself a cup of tea before heading up to his room and starting a warm bath.

Mycroft sighed and looked to Sherlock. 'How are you holding up? You look significantly larger than yesterday. Did they give you growth hormones to speed up the births?'

Sherlock rubbed his distended stomach and groaned as it gurgled unhappily. 'It would appear so. I really can't remember much about my time at the factory. It's a bit of a blur to be honest.'

'I would assume so,' Mycroft sighed. 'You should go inside and finish your breakfast. Take some time to yourself for a while. You deserve it.'

'OK.' Sherlock frowned. 'Greg still doesn't believe that I'm actually me, does he?'

'No. But he might if we cut your hair and you actually talked to him.'

'I shouldn't have to explain myself,' Sherlock huffed. 'You're my brother and you know it's me.'

'I know, but I want my family to know you're you,' Mycroft said with a frown.

'Fine. Just- oh fuck!' Sherlock clutched his stomach. One of the twins was kicking him right in the kidney and it was bloody agonising. He'd been trying to ignore it for David's sake but by now it was becoming unbearable.

'Sherlock!' Mycroft dashed to his side, examining him. 'What's wrong? What's happening?

'I don't know!' Sherlock heaved. Blood began to spill from his lips and he dropped to the ground like a stone. Pain. That' the only thing he was aware of.

'Oh god. Oh my god. I'm taking you to a doctor!' He transported Sherlock and himself to the first doctor he could think of: John.


	38. Remembering Sherlock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus second chapter because I felt like it (and work was slow so I had the time).
> 
> ~TSA + MBC
> 
>  
> 
> _Warnings for this chapter: mentions of pregnancy complications, Johnlock feels, infidelity, hardcore sex, pregnant sex, getting caught in the act, feels all around_

'John!' Mycroft screamed. 'John please help! My brother's dying!'

John rushed out of his private practice and helped the angels inside. His memories were still coming back, so he knew who Sherlock was and what they were to each other, but he knew that there was so much more to remember. He shook his head free of his thoughts and helped Sherlock to an operating table, pressing a stethoscope to his belly and listening carefully.

'There's a cord wrapped around one of the babies' necks. I have to operate now if it's to survive.'

'Then do it!' Mycroft cried. 'Don't just stand there! Do something!'

John nodded and grabbed an IV and some sedatives. 'This is gonna be sloppy and I apologise,' he said to Sherlock, inserting the needle into his arm and plunging a heavy dose of sedatives into his bloodstream.

**...::-::...**

Sherlock was out of it for weeks. When he finally awoke he felt like he'd been through hell and back. He groaned loudly as he opened his eyes.

'Hmmm?'

'Welcome back to the land of the conscious,' John said with a small smile. 'How are you feeling? Any pain or discomfort?'

'I feel... awful,' Sherlock mumbled, blinking blearily up at John.

'I would imagine so,' John mused. 'Emergency surgery on a little girl with her umbilical cord wrapped around her neck. Congratulations by the way. And your daughters are fine now. Everything checks out, they're perfectly healthy, though you should try to put on some weight to sustain yourself as well as the twins.'

'Mmm. Yeh. I'll just go now. Promise to feed myself up.' Sherlock tugged at the wires he was attached to.

'Whoa, whoa, whoa!' John grasped Sherlock's hands, stopping them from pulling off more wires. 'Sherlock, stop. Please, just rest for a few more hours and then I'll take you back to Mycroft's myself. Please. You just came out of a mild coma. You're going to be disoriented and I can't allow you to go venturing off by yourself.'

'I can't stay here. I'm thankful for all you've done, doctor, but after you chased me out into the cold and the rain, I rather think it'd be best for me to just leave,' Sherlock growled.

'Let me apologise for that,' John said softly. 'Please. I can take you out to dinner. Private. Just the two of us. Though no clubbing this time. I drank way too much and got sick all over myself in my mum's car.'

Sherlock blinked in surprise. 'You want... dinner... with me?'

'Why wouldn't I want dinner with my guardian angel?' John asked, a small smile on his face. 'And yes, I remember now. I remember everything. Having David, being a fool with Mary, helping you after your fall, your death. And now you're back and pregnant but I don't care. I have you back.'

Sherlock froze and pulled away. 'John,' he choked out, tears in his eyes. 'We can't do this. You're married... and I'm in another relationship.'

John's face fell before he composed himself. 'They don't have to know. I still love you, Sherlock. Please?'

Sherlock swallowed. 'How can you possibly still love me?'

'How do you mean?' John frowned. 'Why wouldn't I still love you? When I last saw you I watched you die. That didn't change my love for you. And I may have screamed and shouted when you first came to visit but that was because you triggered my memories and I didn't know how to cope. I apologise for my behaviour. But of course I still love you! I never stopped!'

'Oh, god! I love you too!' Sherlock sobbed. 'I missed you so fucking badly! But when I thought you weren't going to remember me I got with the father of my current children. I love him too... just in a different way. Wh-wha- what do I do?!'

'I don't know,' John admitted sadly. 'But you're going to have to make a choice. Don't rush into it though. It'll be fine if you don't choose me. I'm just happy to know you're alive.'

'To be honest, I'm pregnant and I'm tired, and all I'm looking for right now is a damn good shag.' Sherlock blushed a rosy pink. 'I really don't know what I want. I'm sorry. I've just been through so much shit over the years.'

'Well, I feel pretty confident I can give you the damn good shag,' John said smugly. 'You'll be happy to know my technique has improved over the years. As for everything else, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I wish I could help, but I can't. The least I can do is make the remainder of your pregnancy as easy as possible. And you should start your supplements soon as well to help with the pregnancy cravings. They certainly helped me.'

'Ah... yes. Sorry about that.' Sherlock flushed a deeper shade of red. 'I didn't mean to make you into a cock slut like me. At least you nipped it in the bud before it could develop into a real problem. I, however, have been pregnant god knows how many times.'

'The pills helped me with my ten year cravings,' John said softly. 'I think they should help you too.'

'Ten... you forgot all about me.'

'I don't think I ever truly forgot. I had pregnancy urges occasionally and would be held up in bed for a few days until it subsided. Kind of like a woman's period as I had the cravings monthly. But I remember you  _now_ , and I like to think that counts for something.'

Sherlock sniffled and smiled weakly at John. 'I love you, John. Can I get a cuddle?'

'I love you too,' John grinned. 'And of course.' He climbed onto Sherlock's bed and rested his head on his shoulder, an arm draping over Sherlock's belly protectively and possessively.

Sherlock groaned as he felt one of the twins kick out against John's touch. 'Are my babies really gonna be OK?' he asked John quietly.

'Yes,' John said softly. 'They're both absolutely fine. They're perfectly healthy little girls. And I'm gonna help you carry these two to term. I won't let them suffer like your first two did.'

'Thank you.' Sherlock smiled softly at John and kissed him atop of his head. 'Has Michael been here? I should probably tell him our children are OK.'

'He's stopped by once a week to check on your progress,' John said with a nod. 'I'm sure he sees through my façade of pretending not to know who you are other than Mycroft Holmes's little brother. But he doesn't say anything. If I didn't know any better I'd say he was threatened by me.'

" I think he loves me and I told him I love you. So he's probably terrified of losing me to you.' Sherlock sighed heavily. 'I really don't know what I'm going to do. I care for you both so much. I don't want to hurt either of you.'

'Someone always gets hurt in the end,' John said morosely. 'You have to decide with whom you'll have a happier and and more fulfilling life. And, as of right now, that isn't me.'

'You're married, John. I might be many things but I'm not comfortable with having an affair with you.' Sherlock's face fell.

'I know. And I'd rather not cheat on Mary either,' John swallowed loudly. 'Before I remembered you she was the love of my life. Now? I'm not so sure.'

'We were gonna get married. Remember?' Sherlock choked out. 'You proposed to me.'

'Yeah. I remember,' John sighed softly. 'I wish we'd had the chance to do it for real. But those damn Fallen Angel Antagonists destroyed our future. Destroyed everything. I just wish I could have protected you better, but I was just a kid then. But I've grown up a lot, gotten muscle, so I can protect you now.'

'Mmm. You're inexplicably handsome, not that I didn't find you handsome before. You've changed so much and I've deteriorated. Look at me. I'm disgusting.' Sherlock sighed loudly, his hands rubbing his large stomach.

'You're pregnant,' John laughed, rubbing his stomach soothingly. 'It's the greatest miracle of all. It's beautiful.'

'Beautiful?' Sherlock huffed. 'I'm not beautiful. I'm huge and swollen, and hopelessly full of angel babies.'

'Yes, and it's a beautiful thing.' John pressed a kiss to Sherlock's cheek. 'And you  _are_  beautiful. I'll always see you as beautiful. Just like you always did with me.  _Do_  with me. You're perfect to me. My guardian angel.'

'Wow,' Sherlock breathed, swallowing thickly. 'You've really changed, you know that. For the better. You're just... softer... kinder... less closed off.'

'I grew up and matured,' John said softly. 'Went to Uni and got my first degree in human anatomy and biology. Then medical school and starting my own practice. I had a good life. Married Mary, but the whole not able to have kids thing hurt us for quite a while.'

'Yeah. I heard about that. I'm sorry. It must be hard. Though you have a child, John. He's only ten years old and he misses you lots and lots.'

'And he accidentally raped his best friend,' John sighed. 'Mycroft told me. The girl must have been terrified. I know I was. But she's OK now. Got an abortion and her memory wiped. She can't remember David now. He wanted it like that. Said he wouldn't have been able to look at her the same after what he'd done. The poor boy's heartbroken and needs his dads. Want me to go get him?'

Sherlock nodded, smiling weakly. 'Yeah. Go get our boy. He's only a child. I imagine he's been terrified whilst I've been out of it.'

'Yes. He worried about you a lot. I'll be right back with him.' John pressed a kiss to Sherlock's forehead and slid off the bed, heading out into the hall and tapping David on the shoulder. The boy jumped and looked up at John with questioning eyes.

'He wants to see you,' John said with a soft smile. 'Go on.' David stood and went into Sherlock's room, choking on a sob when he laid eyes on his dad. He rushed over and clambered onto the bed, clutching at Sherlock as if he was still the small boy he used to be, clinging onto his daddy.

'Hello, son.' Sherlock whispered softly, stroking his sons back soothingly. 'You've missed me then? I've missed you too.'

'I thought you were gonna die again. I thought you were gonna leave me,' David choked out hurriedly. 'I thought John was gonna forget again and I wouldn't have been able to cope. Not both my dads again. No.'

'Not going to happen,' Sherlock stated firmly. 'Your little sisters just gave us a bit of a scare is all. They're Holmeses, so it's only to be expected that they cause trouble.'

'So you're all good then?' David asked softly, drawing circles on Sherlock's belly with his pointer. 'You and John are gonna get back together?'

'It's not that simple.' Sherlock sighed softly. 'He's married, David. And I'm... I'm with Michael.'

'You're only with him because you're carrying his children,' David scoffed. 'John can easily get a divorce and you'll be free as soon as you deliver the goods... So to speak.'

'No, David. I'm not with Michael because I'm carrying his children. We have a history together, before I became your dad's guardian angel. I really like him and I don't want to screw up another relationship.'

'You weren't the one to screw up your relationship with John!' David protested. 'You were murdered! That was hardly your fault! Is it really so much to ask for my dads to be together and happy?!'

Sherlock groaned and rubbed his stomach. 'Please don't shout. The girls are getting agitated. Listen, being with your dad and being happy are two completely different things.'

'So you can't be happy with John?' David choked out, tears brimming in his eyes. 'You think you'll be happier with Michael?'

'I am happy with Michael. It's... less complicated. There are less risks to all parties.'

'You only want to be with him because he can give you your wings back!' David spat. He scrambled off the bed in a huff, glancing about the room between his two dads. 'I hate you both! Why can't we just be a happy family for once?!' He took off before anyone could speak up, running out of the house and leaping into the sky.

A sob broke free from Sherlock's lips. 'He's right! What the fuck is wrong with us? We should just forget everyone else and shag each other mindless.'

'Do you really want to?' John asked, raising an eyebrow. 'Because I'm all for it honestly.'

'Yes, yes I do,' Sherlock whispered, his voice cracking. 'No need to prepare me. I'm an angel. I prefer it rough. Just shag me!'

John hurriedly closed and locked the door, pulling his clothes off in a frenzy. He quickly undressed Sherlock as well and kissed him passionately, rubbing his belly gently to help the girls relax.

'I love you,' he moaned through the kiss. 'I love you and I missed you so goddamn much.'

'You can't miss someone that you forgot.' Sherlock hummed and settled further down the bed, spreading his legs wide.

'But then I remembered and realised how much I missed you,' John stated, sliding down to grasp Sherlock's legs and drape them over his shoulders. He lined himself up with Sherlock's entrance, his hand shaking slightly as he realised he was about to fuck the love of his life, whom he thought was dead, for the first time in ten years.

Sherlock nodded, eyes filling with tears. 'Yes. God yes. I've missed you so badly and I love you so much. Please make hard love to me.'

'Anything you want, babe,' John promised before pushing inside hard and fast, gasping from the tight heat surrounding his cock.

'Oh!' Sherlock cried out. 'Oh god! Don't just sit still! Do something!'

John started fucking Sherlock at a brutal pace, slamming into him hard, fast, and unforgiving. They had a lot of time to make up for. Sherlock gasped, shuddered and moaned as John moved inside of him, wave after wave of pleasure washing over him.

'Oh god I missed you,' John moaned out. 'I missed everything about you. Your face, your hair, your voice. Everything! But this especially. Fucking you was a particular favourite pastime of mine. Still is. You feel bloody fantastic.'

'What- I - I can't even - fuck!' Sherlock was barely coherent. His vision was blurring as the pleasure he was feeling intensified. John groaned loudly and readjusted himself so he could pound into Sherlock at a different angle, slamming against his prostate as often as possible. Sherlock wasn't going to last long at the rate John was going at but he didn't care. He was finally with his human, finally happy, and he was getting a damn good shag.

'Cum for me, Sherlock,' John said, pounding his angel as fast and as hard as he could. 'Cum for be because I'm about to cum.'

'Yes!' Sherlock screamed as he came in one swift movement. 'God yes! Jawwwn!'

Sherlock cried out as aftershocks of pleasure rippled through his body. John collapsed against him and he moaned. 'Good to go home now, doctor?' he panted out. 'I think it's safe to say I'm strong enough.'

'Yeah,' John panted out. 'You're good to go home.'

'I'll say,' Mary said from the door. John froze and gulped loudly, turning to look at Mary with eyes full of apologies. Mary just glared at him and stormed out, slamming the front door shut behind her.

'Shit,' Sherlock mumbled. 'I'm sorry, John. You go and apologise to her. I'll get my brother to pick me up.'

John nodded and pulled out of Sherlock, pulling his clothes on in a haste and running after Mary.

'Mary! Mary!' he called after her. 'Mary, wait! I can–'

'Don't you dare say you can explain,' Mary ground out, turning to face her husband. 'I told you this would happen! I knew it as soon as I saw him in that room! I knew you'd go back to him! You'll ways go back to him.'

'Mary, please,' John begged softly. 'I'm sorry. Please, just come inside and we can talk about this.'

'There's nothing to discuss,' Mary said quietly. 'You can remember him, remember your feelings for him. It's him you want and not me. And honestly? That's fine. Because I've felt us drifting ever since that boy David entered our lives. He's your son. I can see bits of you in him. Yours and Sherlock's. So go ahead and be with your family. It's been ten years, John. You guys have a lot of catching up to do.'

'Mary–'

'Just go, John,' Mary said forcefully. 'Please. I need to be alone. I'll be at my parents for the foreseeable future.'

John nodded and watched Mary walk away and hail a cab. He sighed dejectedly and scratched the toe of his shoe along the pavement, his hands shoved in his pockets. He groaned up at the sky and walked back into the house, making himself a cup of tea.

Sherlock felt awful. Guilt bubbled in his stomach like hot acid. He'd probably just ruined the only normal relationship John would ever have. And what for? Because he'd wanted a good shag? Because he'd missed John and he'd wanted things to go back to the way they used to be?

 _I'm such a selfish bastard_ , Sherlock thought to himself miserably.

He didn't even flinch when Michael turned up instead of his brother. He just stayed stock still, trying his best not to burst out into tears. Michael didn't say anything. He just stood still and ramrod straight, hands clasped behind his back, looking at Sherlock. Just looking. He didn't want to admit it, not even to himself, but the fact was he was hurt deeply by what had just transpired between Sherlock and the human. The human who could now remember everything.

'Take me home, Michael,' Sherlock pleaded softly. 'I don't want to discuss what happened. I just want to sleep in my own bed. I'm exhausted.'

Michael still said nothing. He merely stepped forward, grasped Sherlock's shoulder, and transported them back to Mycroft's guest bedroom. He helped Sherlock get into bed and left without having said a word.


	39. Fixing things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: M/M sex. Mentions of torture and rape. Mentions of suicidal thoughts/ ideations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! 
> 
> I'm back from the cinema and my fellow writer sent this chapter to me, so that I could update this fic. I hope you enjoy this angsty chapter. 
> 
> Till next time! 
> 
> \- MBC

"I'm sorry!" Sherlock shouted after Michael, curling up in a tight ball beneath his covers. "I'm sorry. Just please come back. I need you."

"Need me to what?" Michael growled, reappearing. "Take away your guilt? Well I can't do that so live with your mistake!"

"It should have been you!" Sherlock sobbed. "It should have been you! It's just… I woke up and I half expected our children to have died… and when I found out that they were fine… I needed someone to turn to. John just happened to be there. "

"With his memories no less," Michael scowled.

"Michael, please," Sherlock whispered, his voice small. "I almost lost our children. I need you right now."

Michael sighed and rolled his eyes. He took off his shoes and jacket and crawled into bed with Sherlock. Sherlock crawled up to Michael's body, wrapping his arms around him. 

"Thank you," he said. "I'm sorry for… almost costing our babies' lives… and I'm sorry about the whole John thing."

"You can save your apology," Michael grunted. "I understand why you did what you did, I just wish you hadn't done it. But you'll never be his again. You're mine. I can give you so much more than he ever could."

Sherlock nodded, sniffling against Michael's chest. "I am sorry though. My emotions and thoughts are all over the place. I blame the hormones."

Michael merely sighed and wrapped his arms around Sherlock tenderly, massaging his back and shoulders gently. Sherlock moaned softly, his body relaxing under Michael's tender touches. 

"I do love you, you know? It's a completely twisted sort of love, but it's still love."

"Twisted?" Michael frowned and tilted Sherlock's head up so he could look at him. "What's so twisted about it?"

"Because I'm damaged goods. I'm fallen. I… I just don't think you'll want anything to do with me once you have your children out of me. I'm just… it's not going to work."

"What makes you think that I won't want you?" Michael frowned. "I want you as my mate, to cherish and breed and show off to the other angels. I want you, Sherlock. Why don't you believe that?"

"Because I'm scum!" Sherlock screamed, pushing himself away from Michael. "I'm dirt! An abomination! A cock slut! A bloody good for nothing fallen angel! "

"You aren't scum!" Michael growled. "You're my favourite and I want you to be mine because I love you!"

Sherlock shook his head, loud sobs spilling from his lips. "I'm not worthy of your love! I'm nothing! I'm broken!"

"Then let me try to fix you," Michael pleaded. "You can be whole again. I have that power. I can give you back the things you miss most. Your wings."

Sherlock blinked, his face completely broken. "Why would you do that for me? After all I've done? After I betrayed you."

"Why would I give you your wings back after what you've done?" Michael sighed and shook his head. "Because I'm an idiot and I love you and I want you to be happy."

"You're the biggest idiot I know," Sherlock said softly and shuffled back over to Michael. "And I simply don't deserve you."

"You deserve to be happy," Michael said softly, pressing a kiss to Sherlock's head. "And if that doesn't involve me… I'll accept it. Because I want you to be happy above all else. I don't want to force you to be mine and have you be miserable."

"But you do make me happy. Very happy." Sherlock whispered gently. "I'm not miserable because of you. I'm miserable because of what happened in the factory. I can't get it out of my head, Michael. I went through hell."

"Do you want me to block that from your mind? I can if you want."

Sherlock nodded shakily. "Yes. Please block those memories. I can't stand it a moment longer."

"Even mine?" Michael asked softly.

"No. Not yours. Just… the memories where I'm almost being beaten to death, and where I was so hungry I actually considered eating my own flesh, and the days where angels came and fucked me even if I was already pregnant… just the really bad memories."

"Ok. This will work better if you're laying down."

Sherlock wiped his hand against his nose and lay down on his back, closing his eyes, his breathing shallow and uneven. He just wanted those memories gone.

"Relax," Michael said softly, pressing a tender kiss to Sherlock's lips. "It's gonna be OK." He placed his fingertips on Sherlock's head, touched his forehead to his, and began sorting and deleting Sherlock's painful memories of his time at the factory.

Sherlock trembled in fear as Michael rummaged in his mind. There were thoughts in there that he really didn't want Michael to find. Dark thoughts that he'd had since he was a fledgling, before his mother's death, before anything bad had ever happened to him. It was like those thoughts had been stitched onto his heart at birth, the beating organ host to a million painful suicidal ideations. He tried to fight Michael at first but he was too strong and so long after the memories he had of his time in the factory had been deleted Michael was still rummaging in his mind. What he would find were not pretty thoughts. They were ugly; as ugly and as black as his soul felt.

Michael's heart ached the more he ventured through Sherlock's mind. His frequent suicidal thoughts, the bullying from the other fledglings, his mother's murder, and so many more. He choked on a sob and pulled away, trying to hold back his tears. Sherlock grunted and cautiously flipped himself as best he could onto his stomach (bear in mind he was pregnant so it was incredibly awkward and uncomfortable). 

"I'm sorry you had to see all that. I did try and stop you from digging around in my mind, but you didn't listen."

"Just… stop talking," Michael choked out. He leaned over Sherlock and pressed his forehead between Sherlock's shoulder blades. He finally started crying and began rubbing his tears into Sherlock's skin.

Sherlock gasped. Michael was crying? Over him? What was he doing? Oh. It suddenly hit Sherlock. It was rumoured that angels with immense power, such as Michael, could heal people with merely a few tear droplets. Maybe it wasn't a rumour after all...

"Michael," he whispered quietly, trying to gain Michael's attention. Instead the older angel only cried harder. Sherlock's back felt tingly and warm. He could feel new wings forming. They grew from two tiny stubs into magnificent and beautiful raven-black wings. They were large, larger than Michael's even. Wing size was generally how angels rated power. Michael had made him into one of the most powerful angels out there. He curled his newly grown wings upwards to inspect them. He gaped at them in awe. The very tips of his wings were a deep crimson red. These wings were rare. Really rare. And they were his. He could hardly believe it.

Michael wiped at his eyes and smiled at Sherlock softly. 'Do you like them?' he asked in a quiet voice.

"Like them?" Sherlock rolled onto his back and arched his newly formed wings to inspect them further. "I love them! I love them! I…love you."

Michael's heart warmed at Sherlock's words, a bright smile creeping up on his face. "Want to show me how much you love me?"

"Michael," Sherlock whined. "I can hardly make hard love to you. I can barely move. You, on the other hand, could take me."

"Then I shall,” Michael purred, helping Sherlock adjust his new wings so they wouldn't be harmed during the love making. "I'll reclaim you as mine." He pressed a searing kiss to Sherlock's lips, parting them and shoving his tongue inside his mouth.

"Mmm." Sherlock hummed loudly against Michael's lips and he rocked subtly beneath him. "Just… be gentle. It would seem the twins don't appreciate rough sex like I do."

"Of course," Michael hummed. He pressed one more kiss to Sherlock's lips and two to his stomach, one for each of the girls, before stripping from his clothes and folding them neatly. He then began lapping at Sherlock's still stretched entrance, tasting some of the human's release on his tongue. He growled and nipped Sherlock's thigh.

"Such a bad angel for allowing a human to fuck you," he growled playfully. "I shall reclaim you as mine so everyone will know you belong to me. Would you like that?"

Sherlock panted out an answer, moaning, and groaning beneath Michael. "Yes! Reclaim me! Let the world know I'm yours! Scream my name! Make me scream yours! Umph!"

Michael chuckled and licked his palm, slicking himself up before easing himself inside Sherlock. He sighed as Sherlock accepted him and leant over him, his hands on either side of his head. He moved gingerly at first, giving them both time to adjust. He leant down and sucked on Sherlock's neck possessively, nipping and sucking and biting to stake his claim on him.

"You're mine," he growled, beginning to thrust long and deep inside his lover.

"Yes," Sherlock whispered hoarsely. "I'm all yours, Mike. All yours." His new wings reached up and gently caressed Michael's cheek. "I love you. I love you so incredibly much. Forgive me for betraying you. "

"You're forgiven," Michael said softly, leaning into the soft touch of Sherlock's wings. "And I love you, too. You've always been my favourite, I've loved you for centuries now, and was drawn to you almost as soon as you were born. And now you're giving me the gift of life, and it's a bloody miracle that we've finally made it here."

"Michael!" Sherlock tusked. "Don't use such vulgar language around our girls. Do you want them to swear like sailors like me when they're older?" He couldn't help but smile however as Michael continued to make soft love to him.

"The word 'bloody' is hardly vulgar compared to what I've heard come out of your mouth," Michael tusked. He thrust a little faster, moaning and humming at the pleasure of it all.

"Hmmf." Sherlock huffed and wrapped his wings around Michael as his lover moved inside of him. "God- uhmp- Mike!"

'Say my name again,' Michael whispered seductively in Sherlock's ear. He moved a little harder now, managing to find Sherlock's bundle of nerves and trying to hit it as often as possible. 'My full name.'

"M-M-Mi-Michael!" Sherlock screamed at the top of his lungs, his body tensing as he began to cum.

"That's it, my love," Michael groaned, tossing his head back as he neared his own release. "Cum on me. Scream my name."

"Michael! Michael! Michael!" Sherlock screamed till his throat was raw, a thick mass of cum spraying over his lover.

"Ugh! Sherlock!" Michael cried as he plummeted over the edge, shoving himself as deep as he could go inside his lover as he came. He bit into the meaty part of Sherlock's shoulder, leaving a possessive and deep bite mark in his skin.

Sherlock whimpered as he came down from his high. "Oh. Oh god that was amazing. Thank you. Thanks so much."

Michael purred and licked at the marks he'd made on Sherlock, soothing them with his saliva. Sherlock shivered and kissed Michael heatedly, shoving his tongue down his lover’s throat. Michael moaned and kissed Sherlock back, their tongues dancing in a mad scramble for domination. Sherlock moaned and bit into Michael's lip until he tasted blood. 

"I love you. I love you. I love you," he repeated over and over again.

"I love you too," Michael moaned. "I love you so much." He settled down next to Sherlock and draped an arm around his belly protectively. He pulled the blankets over them and settled down for a long nap with his lover.

"Promise you'll be here when I wake," Sherlock murmured softly.

"Of course," Michael promised, pressing a soft kiss to Sherlock's cheek. "Now rest, love. Rest and then I shall lavish you with food."

Sherlock's stomach growled loudly and Sherlock whined. "You had to mention food, hmmm? Now the twins will never settle enough for me to sleep."

"I can fix that," Michael murmured, his hand rubbing Sherlock's stomach gently. The twins stopped moving and even began to drift off to sleep. "I made them think they were full, so they went to sleep," he explained when he saw Sherlock's confused and utterly astonished look.

"Oh thank god." Sherlock breathed. "I can finally sleep. Thank you. Jesus. They've never been this still before. "

"You're welcome," Michael said, yawning. "Now go to sleep, my love. I will still be here when you wake."

"Ok. Night, Michael." Sherlock breathed softly, falling into a deep sleep.


	40. The birth of the twins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! I feel like it's been ages since we've updated this fic. I had wanted to update it during my week long break, but I spent most of that catching up on sleep, so that didn't happen. Now MBC is on a break, but she's spending it with her family. So I thought I'd go ahead and update this one today after MBC had updated our other two RPs.
> 
> Some warnings for this chapter: pregnancy hormones cause crazy emotions, anal sex, Greg is a massive dick and I am so sorry he's so out of character in this, slightly graphic births, and everyone is on an emotional roller coaster in this chapter. But babies!

Michael was at Sherlock’s beck and call from then on. He didn’t want John anywhere near his mate. The human didn’t even know Sherlock had wings again. He was trying to fix his practice and his marriage, though that didn’t stop him from calling occasionally to check on Sherlock’s progress. 

Michael was practically a member of the Holmes household by the time Sherlock was ready to pop. He knew of Mycroft’s relationship with his human but he was too busy tending to Sherlock to truly care. He was currently giving Sherlock a bath, massaging his swollen stomach to help the twins relax. They were getting extremely restless the closer the due date came. As it was, Sherlock could give birth any day now. It was just up to the twins now. 

“You feeling better now?” he asked Sherlock softly. 

“A little,” Sherlock sighed softly. “I’m exhausted though. I didn’t get much sleep last night at all. I’m hoping they’ll arrive soon. I’m starting to feel a little like a walking planet.” He pouted and poked his stomach gently. 

“They’ll arrive soon,” Michael cooed softly, rubbing Sherlock’s stomach gently. “They’re quite eager to get out. But they feel like they aren’t quite ready yet. Have they told you their names?” 

“No,” Sherlock whispered, shaking his head. “They said that you have to be the first one to find out. They don’t want to tell me. They don’t like me.” 

“They don’t like you?” Michael frowned. “Why not?” 

“Because I’m nothing but scum in their eyes. They know that I fell, and although they don’t fully understand all the connotations that tie in with that they do not like it.” Sherlock sniffled loudly, tears forming in his eyes. He just wanted the girls to love him. 

Michael scowled. “Girls, you will respect Sherlock. He is your father and he has carried you all this way. You will treat him with respect or so help me you will be grounded for your entire first year. Do you understand?” 

Sherlock grunted as the girls kicked harshly against his stomach. “Oh god!” he yelped. “That didn’t help at all!” 

“Girls,” Michael growled. “I am your father and you will listen to me! Respect Sherlock as your father or I'll take you out of there before you’re ready. He deserves your respect after all he’s done for you. Carrying you, feeding you, protecting you. He’s sacrificed a lot for you and he deserves your love and respect.” 

That seemed to work as the girls stilled slightly. “Thank you,” Sherlock whispered. “They were really hurting me.” 

“Will you tell him your names now?” Michael asked the girls. 

Sherlock blinked in surprise as the twins whispered their names to him. He smiled widely. “Sapphire and Ruby.” 

“Aren’t they beautiful names?” Michael whispered, pressing a kiss to Sherlock’s belly. “Beautiful names for beautiful girls.” 

“Our precious little gems,” Sherlock said, grinning. 

“Yes. Precious gems,” Michael grinned. “I love you all so much.” 

“Kiss me, fool.” Sherlock laughed softly, puckering his lips teasingly. Michael laughed and pressed a loving kiss to Sherlock’s lips, humming softly as his traced his tongue over the plush Cupid’s bow. 

“Make love to me?” Sherlock asked, voice soft. 

“Gladly,” Michael purred. He picked Sherlock up out of the bath water and carried him to the bed, placing him down on it and adjusting his wings so they wouldn’t get hurt. He clambered over his lover and kissed him heatedly, rutting against his stomach gently. 

“Oh, god,” Sherlock moaned. “Michael, I need your cock.” 

“Whatever you want, love,” Michael hummed. He slid down Sherlock’s body, lined himself up, and shoved inside. Angel sex was rough and dirty, especially when one of the party is pregnant. Everything felt rushed, heated. The two men couldn’t get enough of each other. But Michael was still a tad too gentle for Sherlock to bear. 

Sherlock moaned and pulled Michael in further. “Make hard love to me.” 

“And upset the girls?” Michael chuckled. “No. This time is about making you feel loved. I’ll make hard love to you after they’re born. They’re too close to risk it.” He began moving in and out slowly, his thrusts long and deep. 

Sherlock whined softly. “Slow is so frustrating though! But god it feels so good!” 

“That’s it, love,” Michael purred, his pace still slow. “Close your eyes and focus on how good you feel.” 

Sherlock did. He laid back and allowed the fantastic sensations to wash over him. “I’m so close already. Either you’re getting better at this or I’m just really sensitive.” 

“I’d say both,” Michael hummed. He moved just a little faster but kept his thrusts deep. He grabbed Sherlock’s cock and stroked it in time with his movements, feeling the organ twitch and throb in his grasp. 

“Oh.” Sherlock’s lip parted and formed a large ‘O’ as he felt the shudder of an orgasm building up inside him. 

“Gorgeous,” Michael moaned, his thrusts speeding up to help him to his own release. “Absolutely gorgeous.” 

“You’re not too bad yourself,” Sherlock purred, moving a hand down to Michael’s balls. 

“Oh, yes,” Michael groaned. “That’s it. Oh, yes.” 

“Are you gonna cum for me?” Sherlock asked, squeezing Michael’s balls harder and pecking his lover on the lips. 

“Yes,” Michael groaned, his body stiffening as he got closer and closer. “Oh, yes. Yes! Yes!” He cried Sherlock’s name as he came deep inside him, moaning loudly and trembling as he was milked dry. 

Sherlock sighed in satisfaction, feeling hopelessly full and content. “You know, this gets more and more amazing each time we do it.” 

“Yeah,” Michael sighed. He pulled out and lay down beside Sherlock, drawing circles on his belly with his index finger. “It really does.” 

Sherlock hummed and clasped one of Michael’s hands, holding it over his stomach. “Please tell me I’m getting a break after these two? At least for a little while anyway. My body literally can’t take much more time being pregnant.” 

“Yes. You can have as long a break as you want,” Michael promised. “I’d like to see you trim and fit again.” 

“Thank you.” Sherlock breathed a sigh of relief. “Of course, I’d love to carry more of your children. Lots and lots more. But not for a while.” 

“Of course,” Michael nodded. “I understand. And, maybe, when you’re ready, we could make this arrangement official? You could become my mate legally?” 

“You mean?” Sherlock looked up at Michael in surprise. “Marry you?” 

“Yes,” Michael answered. “You can think about it if you need to. There’s no rush. Just something to consider.” 

“Thank you,” Sherlock breathed in relief. “It’s a big decision after all.” 

“You’re welcome,” Michael hummed. “Take all the time you need.” He looked down at Sherlock’s stomach and watched as it rippled with movement. “The girls are hungry. Want me to cook for you?” 

“Mmm. That would be wonderful. Thank you.” Sherlock hummed softly, his stomach growling loudly. 

“OK.” Michael kissed Sherlock softly before standing and getting dressed. “Love you.” 

“Love you and so do the girls. Help me roll onto my side? I'm not very comfortable right now.” 

Michael nodded and helped Sherlock onto his side, draping his wings behind him. “Better?” 

“A little. Not much though. I’m getting so large I’m not comfortable at all these days.”

“The girls are almost ready, so your discomfort will ease soon.” He rubbed Sherlock’s stomach gently and smiled. “I’ll go make you some lunch. Craving anything in particular?” 

“Fish fingers and custard?” 

“Just that? Or do you want an actual meal to go with it?” Michael laughed. 

Sherlock's stomach growled viciously. “A meal to go with it. I’m not sure what. Surprise me.” 

“Alright then,” Michael grinned. “See you in a bit.” He took off for the kitchen to prepare the fish fingers and some chicken enchiladas. 

Sherlock hummed and closed his eyes, dozing off into a deep sleep. 

Greg watched Michael move about in the kitchen. He didn’t like the angel’s presence in his home. He was worried about his family, especially Mycroft. What was going to happen to them after the twins were born? Would Mycroft fall? Would Greg and his children be murdered? What was going to happen to them? He rubbed a hand over his heavily pregnant stomach, baby Rory as agitated as he was about the whole ordeal. 

It was all the strange angel’s fault. The one Mycroft had brought in so long ago. Greg still didn’t believe it was Sherlock. Resurrection? Escaping from the angel rape factory relatively unharmed? And now Michael practically becoming the midwife to said angel? What next? Marriage? He scoffed and waddled off to the guest room. He and the mysterious angel needed to have a chat. 

Sherlock frowned in his sleep. His fledglings were having a discussion with another angel and were fussing in his womb. Ah. That was baby Rory. His nephew. 

“Hey, little one,” he whispered. “What are you doing chatting to Sapphire and Ruby?” 

“His daddy came to see their daddy, so they wanted to talk,” Greg stated. “You and I need to have a chat.” 

“Oh?” Sherlock frowned. “OK. We can talk. What about?” 

“I think you’re taking advantage of Mycroft’s hospitality and his determination to believe you’re his dead brother,” Greg stated bluntly, not taking the time to beat around the bush. “Angel resurrection and fleeing the factory without a scratch? That story’s too good to be true. Now tell me who you are.” 

Sherlock frowned and shook his head. “I’m not taking advantage of, My. The old codger does my head in at the best of times but I would never take advantage of him. I’m Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes.” 

“Somehow I find that very hard to believe.” Greg scowled. “Because I saw Sherlock Holmes die right in front of his entire family. His lover, son, brother, nephew, and me. Sherlock Holmes is dead. Now tell me who you are!” 

Sherlock flinched at Greg’s words. How did he not believe him? How could he make him realize he was who he said he was? 

“Ask Michael,” he said. “He knows me. He saved me. He’ll tell you that you’re being an idiot about all this. You can trust him.” 

“I don’t trust him either,” Greg growled. “Because he’s the top angel. He knows about my illegal family with Mycroft. And I’m under the firm belief that he’s only allowing us to continue existing because of you and the twins. And I’m scared of what might happen to us when you give birth. I don’t trust either of you. And unless you can prove to me that you’re the real Sherlock, I want you and your angel lover out of here tomorrow. I don’t want you here anymore. You’re a threat to my family and I want you gone.”

Sherlock’s eyes filled with thick tears. “You want me gone?” he asked quietly, his hands rubbing his stomach protectively. “I haven’t got anywhere else to go. You’re all my family. I thought family stuck together.” 

“Prove that you’re Sherlock and I’ll allow you to stay,” Greg reiterated. “Now tell me something only the real Sherlock would know. Prove to me that you’re him.” 

“Like what?!” Sherlock spat. “What the fuck do you want me to say?!” 

“Tell me something about me then,” Greg growled. “Something I shared with the real Sherlock about myself that only he would know.” 

“I don’t know. Um…” Sherlock’s breath hitched as he felt a sharp pain spasm across his middle. “No, no, no.” All he could think was _“it’s too early”_ and _“please not now”_. 

“Damn it!” Greg cried, slamming his fist on the nightstand. “Just fucking tell me something! Make me believe you’re alive! Because I want you to be alive, I do, but this all seems too conspicuous and way too good to be true. So tell me something now!” 

“I don’t know what to tell you!” Sherlock screamed, clutching his stomach. He found himself crying out for Michael, his brother, anyone that could possibly take his pain away, anyone who could stop Greg from shouting at him. 

“Just tell me!” Greg shouted. “Please! Anything! Because I want it to be you! I want to have my like-a-son angel back! Please just tell me something!” he sobbed out. 

“I’m sorry if I can’t think straight right now! I’m too busy giving birth!” 

Greg slapped the angel across the face and got right into his personal space. “You tell me something right now or I’ll kick you out whilst you’re giving birth,” he growled, ignoring the pains from Rory’s obvious agitation. 

“Fine! Kick me out whilst I’m giving birth! I’m sure your family will be safe then!” Sherlock screamed. Oh god. The pain was worsening. He could feel his stomach muscles starting to part. He shifted so his stomach was exposed and cried out. One of the twins was trying to push its way out but it was only getting distressed. 

Mycroft and Michael finally burst in, Michael rushing to Sherlock’s side and grabbing his hand. Greg refused to leave Sherlock’s personal boundary until he got answers. 

“Tell me this,” he said in a quiet voice. “When I first met you, what did I say?” 

“You said… you said that I needed to get the fucking stick out my arse because I was too uptight, even for an angel!” Sherlock roared, screaming as another contraction rippled through him. 

Greg choked up and nodded, pressing his forehead to Sherlock’s. Realisation of how stupid he’d been washed over him. “I did. Oh my god, it’s you. You’re alive. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. I’m so sorry.” 

“Fuck you!” Sherlock screamed. “I told you! You should have fucking believed me! You say you see me as a son? Well fuck that because you've treated me like dirt since I came back! Now go! I hate you!” 

Greg sobbed loudly and crumpled to the floor, Sherlock’s words ringing true. And he couldn’t ignore the pain from Rory now. He wanted out. 

“Myc,” he choked out. “Baby. Ready.” 

Mycroft ran over to him and transported him to their bedroom, calling for the doctor who appeared almost immediately. They got Greg’s clothes off and he was injected with a sedative, his sobs turning into quiet blubbers before quieting altogether. The doctor then proceeded to perform the Caesarean section as Mycroft watched nervously from the far end of the room. 

Sherlock continued to scream as his stomach parted further, twin one pushing its head out to greet the world. “Michael, do something now!” 

“Like what?!” Michael asked in a panic. “I’ve never done this before! What do I do?!” 

“Just get these bloody things out of me! I don’t bloody care!” Sherlock wailed as baby number one pushed against his opening further. “Fuck! Please, Mike!” 

Michael scrambled to help baby one on its way out, adjusting her wings so they could come out undamaged. She finally entered the world fully and Michael let out an excited little laugh, looking down at his daughter in utter joy. 

“And which one are you?” he asked the crying bundle. “Ruby? Well, hello Ruby. Welcome to the world.” 

Sherlock smiled at the baby but that smile soon disappeared as baby two started pushing its way out into the world. Sapphire was on her way. 

“Oh, crap.” Michael began panicking again. “I need to cut the cord. Where are the midwives?” he shouted at the ceiling. “Get down here now!” 

Sherlock was panting and sweating, his body thrashing about violently as he pushed Sapphire out. He let out sharp cries of agony. Nothing Michael could say or do could make the pain disappear. 

“Fuck… fuck… fuck!” 

“Language!” Michael snapped just as the midwives arrived. “You’re late!” he roared at them. He passed Ruby over to one of the midwives and the cord was cut and she was cleaned of the amniotic fluids on her skin. The other midwife tended to Sherlock and helped him deliver Sapphire. 

“Fuck language!” Sherlock roared till his throat was raw. “Fuck everything!” Sherlock felt himself succumb to darkness, blissful darkness that allowed him to escape the pain.  

Michael choked on a sob as Sherlock passed out and their second daughter was born. He held onto both daughters as the midwives rushed to grab the doctor from upstairs. Mycroft was cradling his new son to his chest while Gregory slept on, barely registering that the doctor rushed downstairs to tend to the other birth. 

 **…::-::…**  

Sherlock was completely out of it for almost a month. He was exhausted from being pregnant continuously and he severely needed the rest. When he did wake, he was aware that there were several people standing over his bed. 

“Um... Hello?” 

“Welcome back,” Mycroft said with a soft smile. 

“Your daughters were worried,” Michael said, appearing beside him. “And so was I.” 

“We all were,” Greg said softly. 

Sherlock snarled at Greg almost instinctively. “Get out. You’re not welcome in my room.” 

“Sherlock,” Mycroft growled in return, his feathers bristling in defence of his mate. “Gregory is part of this family and you will treat him with respect. He is my mate and he will get that respect.” 

Michael merely raised an eyebrow as if to say, “Listen to your brother.” 

Sherlock shoved his covers from himself and launched himself off of the bed, a menacing growl building in the back of his throat.

“He isn’t a part of this family,” Sherlock spat, getting right in Greg’s face. His wings arched above him, making him as intimidating as possible, and his eyes began to glow with raw power. 

“Sherlock,” Michael growled sternly, stepping in front of Greg and glowering at Sherlock. “Calm down right now. Your daughters don’t need to see you like this.” 

Sherlock puffed his chest out further, his nostrils flaring with anger. He stood a little taller so that he was bearing down on Michael. The red tips of his wings twitched in fury. “Don’t tell me what to do!”

Michael growled and his wings flared impressively behind him. “I am your superior, Sherlock. You will listen to me or I will take your children away.” 

The golden light in Sherlock’s eyes faded and his wings visibly deflated. His lower lip trembled. “I knew it. I knew all you wanted was your children. You don’t love me. You’ll look for any excuse to leave me now they’ve arrived. Well don’t bother. I'll save you the trouble and end this right here.” 

Michael growled again and grasped Sherlock’s arms tight. “Shut up this instant. You’re so quick to assume the worst and forget all the good. I do love you, you idiot. But if your behaviour becomes a threat to our children then I will take the best course of action to protect them until you calm down. Do you understand?” 

“I’m not a threat to them though,” Sherlock whispered. “I’m just pissed off at Greg. The twins came too early. What if they hadn't made it?” 

“They would have survived no matter what,” Michael said softly. “They were full-term, they just didn’t want to leave the womb yet.” 

“Yeah. Exactly. They didn’t wanna come out. There could have been complications or... I don’t know. Anything could have gone wrong!” 

“But nothing did!” Michael countered. “They’re fine and want to see their daddy. Want to meet your daughters?” 

“They got over hating me then?” Sherlock sniffled loudly, wiping at his eyes. 

“Yes. They got worried about you and thought their daddy was going to leave them.” He dismissed Mycroft and Greg and went over to the cot the twins were in. He grabbed them both and carried them over to the bed, sitting down beside Sherlock and handed him one of the girls. 

“Ruby, meet your daddy. Sherlock, meet your daughter.” 

Sherlock's heart melted into a puddle of goo. “Hello, little lady. You have no idea how good it is to see you in person.” 

“Da,” she gurgled, reaching up to squeeze Sherlock’s nose. 

Sherlock rocked his daughter in his arms gently. “That’s right. I’m your daddy. And I love you so much.” 

“Da, Da, Da!” Ruby chanted, a wide grin on her face. 

Sherlock laughed and blew a raspberry on his daughter’s skin. “You’re beautiful. Just like your father.” 

“Da o Pa?” she asked, looking between Sherlock and Michael. 

“Pa.” Sherlock smiled softly. “Your Pa is gorgeous.” 

“But so is your Da,” Michael told her. “Don’t let him tell you any different.” 

“Peetee das,” Ruby giggled. 

Sherlock looked up at Michael with pitch black eyes. “You know, my medication hasn't kicked in. I still feel so empty. Perhaps we can correct that soon.” 

“No.” Michael shook his head. “You deserve more than to be constantly pregnant. You won’t be happy. Just keep taking your pills and your mind will change.” 

“Well, at least kiss me and give me a cuddle,” Sherlock huffed playfully. 

“That I can do.” Michael grinned softly and put the girls back in their cribs so they could nap. He crawled back onto the bed and pulled Sherlock onto his chest, kissing him softly. 

Sherlock growled and intensified the kiss, rubbing himself against Michael urgently. “Fuck me, fool. Shag me so hard I can't walk.” 

“Shagging but no mating,” Michael clarified, a hand snaking down to cup his lover’s massive erection. 

Sherlock nibbled along Michael’s lower lip. “Of course.” 

“I mean it, Sherlock,” Michael said sternly. “No funny business or I go back to Heaven until your medication takes effect.” 

Sherlock whined loudly and wriggled away from Michael. “Then you should probably leave. Also, just a newsflash but giving birth hurts like nothing else so don’t you ever dare tell me to mind my language during it again.” 

“I don’t care for curses no matter the issue,” Michael scowled. “So watch your language in front of me. The humans really have influenced you for worse. Try not to fall deeper into their filthy habits. I’ll see you again when your hormones are in check.” He disappeared in a flash of light, leaving Sherlock alone with the twins.


End file.
